


Fuck the Hell Out of Me

by SavageSavannah



Category: Supernatural, Wincest - Fandom
Genre: Bottom Sam Winchester, Dean Bears The Mark of Cain, Demon!Dean, Emotional Hurt, Hurt Sam Winchester, Lots of gay sex, M/M, Mark of Cain, Top Dean, Top Sam, Wincest - Freeform, season ten spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-27
Updated: 2015-01-26
Packaged: 2018-02-22 19:58:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 20,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2519900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SavageSavannah/pseuds/SavageSavannah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takes place beginning in the second episode of SPN season ten. Things are similar to the series for a while before breaking away from that mold. Lots of sexual.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Something Entirely Different

            “I’m doing all I can not to come over there and rip your throat out. With my teeth.” Sam flinched at the way Dean ended his warning. The last he recalled, Dean’s teeth against his skin meant something entirely different. Sam fingered the handcuffs in his back pocket. They usually meant something much different as well. He brought them out and stepped towards his brother an inch or so.

            “You really think those are going to work, Sammy?” Dean squared his shoulders, defensive and wracked with indecision. Sammy wasn’t the only one who’s mind couldn’t keep from wondering to all the things they had done, the boundaries they had crossed in order to explore each other’s deepest desires. Dean stood up as Sam stepped forward again. The younger Winchester’s face was grief stricken and distracted, something Dean didn’t miss. Had he wanted he could’ve ended Sam right there, but now that he was standing here with his little brother again he could think only of wrapping his hand up in Sammy’s dark locks and devouring his mouth. All the emotions he thought he’d given up were coursing through his hell rampaged veins with enough force to knock him over, fighting for dominance over his need to crush Sam’s skull between his fists. But Dean held his ground.

            “Sam,” Dean warned, afraid of what he might do if his brother came close enough for him to reach. Dean had left to protect Sam, terrified of his need to kill. His heart still beat in his chest, despite the demon. But instead of keeping him alive it only served to remind him where he’d come from, who he’d belonged to. Sam tilted his head slightly, pain coursing through his body at any movement due to the beating he’d taken from Cole.

            “Are you going to hurt me, De?” The way Sammy said Dean’s name just as he’d always done was almost enough to distract him from thinking anything at all. But Dean had noticed the fingerprint bruises on Sam’s throat, and the blind rage that observation produced was taking over his mind. He stepped forward abruptly, causing Sam to jump, unsure of his brother’s intentions. Dean froze, raising his hands in surrender. Slowly Dean slipped one hand behind his back and pulled the first blade from his waistband, laying it on the bar beside him. Sam’s shoulders relaxed a bit and Dean took another step to his brother. They were close enough to touch now, and touch they did. Dean raised his fingers and caressed the bruises on Sam’s neck. Sam shuddered.

            “Did that guy do this to you?” Dean’s touch may have been gentle but his words might as well have been accompanied with flames. His eyes flashed black in anger without his consent. A puff of air escaped Sam’s lips, seeing Dean demon out in person was so much different than he had expected, much less frightening and much more erotic. He could feel blood rushing to his groin as Dean’s breath ghosted across his face.

            “Answer me, Sam,” Dean tried to regain control of his brother’s attention. Sammy, however, could only see this new Dean with darkened eyes and intensified sensations, a Dean surged with power but still touching Sam in the same way he always had, still protecting Sam with every fiber of his being. Dean brought his other hand up so his palms were on either of Sam’s cheeks and pulled their faces closer together. Sam’s eyes explored every inch of his older brothers body, completely oblivious still to Dean’s urgent need for information. Dean’s eyes followed Sam’s as they traveled down the plains of his chest. Only then did Dean notice Sammy’s rock hard cock bulging in the front of his jeans. Dean dropped a hand to Sam’s hip, sliding his palm over inch by inch to cup his little brother’s erection. Sam shuddered as Dean massaged his fingers over the denim covering Sam’s shaft. His eyes flashed back up to meet Dean’s, which were still as black as night. Then Dean dropped both his hands to his sides, his lips forming a line. Sam’s whimper at the loss of contact was almost inaudible. He searched Dean’s face for an answer, all in the hopes that he hadn’t suddenly lost his desire for Sam.

            “Did that guy on the phone hurt you, Sam,” Dean asked again, firmer this time. Dean needed to know what had happened, who the man was, and where he could find him. Sam stumbled over his words.

            “He said you told him to…”

            “That’s not what I’m asking,” Dean said quickly.

            “But did you? Did you tell him to kill me?” Dean was about to reiterate his question a third time but Sam cut him off. “Yes. He tied me up and beat the shit out of me, Dean. Your turn.” Sam waited for Dean to respond.

            “I knew he wouldn’t.”

            “How? How could you possibly know that? How could you tell him that?” Sam’s mind was riddled with the shock of this demon reality he’d nearly forgotten; his heart ached to beat straight out from his slightly cracked ribcage.

            “I was irritated! I fucking told you to let me go.” Dean threw his hands in the air. Sam just stood there, his emotions wounded, his mind a jumbled heap. Before either could say another word the side door to the bar opened and small canister was tossed onto the floor by Sam’s feet. Sam began coughing, nearly falling to his knees as smoke flooded the atmosphere.


	2. Like a Monster

         “Sam!” Dean pulled Sam’s good arm up around his shoulders and helped him outside, laying him gently against the outer wall of the building. Then, Dean turned in time to see a stranger approaching him, knife raised in his hand.

         The two would’ve fought epically had the man, who confessed himself to be called Cole, known what he was doing even slightly. But instead Dean beat his ass nearly beyond recognition. He only stopped upon noticing Sam struggling to stand up out of the corner of his eye. Dean grabbed Cole by the throat and pulled his face close enough to see when Dean’s eyes flashed black. Cole gasped.

         “What the fuck are you?”

         “I’m a demon.” Dean smirked briefly before scowling at the man again. “Now stay the fuck away from my brother.” He tossed Cole to the side like garbage causing Cole’s head to crush against the pavement and knock him unconscious. Dean turned back to where he had laid Sammy only to find the spot empty. He heard his brother's footsteps inside the bar. Dean's thoughts flashed to his precious weapon, his mind torn between his desire for it and his desire for Sam. He walked in the doorway a step; he could see the blade still on the bar. By the time he registered that he couldn't see Sam also, his little brother was slapping handcuffs on his wrists. Dean twisted around with a snarl. 

         "Dammit, Sam!" Dean struggled against his brother’s giant hands. Sam shoved Dean back against the wall of the bar, putting his palms against Dean's chest. 

         "Dean." Something about the way Sammy said his name caused Dean to stop fighting, to just breathe in his brother's proximity. Dean closed his eyes briefly. Then he heard Sam call for Crowley. His eyelids shot open in time to see the son of a bitch come in and take the first blade from the bar. Dean shoved hard against Sam. 

         "Stop, Dean. Stop! It's over!" Sam tried to regain control of Dean's emotions. 

         "Looks like you got your hands full there, Moose." Crowley chuckled. 

         "Piss off, Crowley," Sam retorted as Crowley meandered out the front of the bar and was gone without another word. Dean fumed with wrath. Or maybe it was hunger due to his brother’s fingertips massaging just barely into his chest. He slammed his head back against the wall. 

         "God dammit, Sam!" 

         "I'm sorry," Sam whispered, glancing down at his shoes. Dean flinched at Sam's words and his ability blame himself for everything. Dean almost chuckled when he thought about where Sam could've gotten such a habit. 

         "Don't fucking throw a pity party, Sam."

         Sam looked up. "What?"

         Dean leaned forward so he could whisper in Sam's ear. "Don't you dare blame any of this on yourself."

         Sam's breath caught in his throat. Dean’s words kept bouncing from being filled with hatred to being filled with sentiment. Sam’s mind tried to make sense of Dean’s all to no avail. Knowing that Crowley was long gone, Sam unlocked the cuffs around Dean's wrists. Dean immediately wrapped his arms around Sam's body, which shook with the warmth of his brother finally surrounding him again. Dean clenched his fists. Sam could feel the strain he was putting on Dean, how hard it was for his brother not to shred him apart. Dean cursed under his breath and Sam stepped back. 

         "Sammy…" Dean began. Sam shook his head softly. 

         "It's okay, Dean. We'll get through this."

         Dean's eyes flashed black at Sam's words, defensive insecurity surging through him.

         "Will we," Dean questioned. Sam nodded briefly as he stepped back to his brother and slid his hand up to Dean's neck. He brought his forehead down to Dean's, fascination blatant on his face. 

         "Do it again," Sam whispered. Dean let his eyes fall to black again. His mindset changed immediately at the sight of Sammy trembling under his demon stare. 

         "See something you like, Sammy?" Sam's fingertip crept up Dean's cheek, sliding softly under his brother's eyelids. The younger Winchester's lips parted but no sound came out. Dean smirked. That was the last move he made before giving in completely and falling upon his little Sammy. Dean let his lips devour his brother's. Sam groaned in response, unable to keep his eyes open no matter how he tried. He let Dean take control of his weight, practically melting in his brother's arms. Suddenly there came the sound of someone clearing their throat behind them. The bartender had returned from wherever Dean had sent him. Sam untangled himself from his brother, blushing and scared should this man have an unfavorable reaction. Dean’s reaction, however, is what Sam should have worried about.

         Dean was on the offensive before the man even spoke, jumping in front of Sam. Sam put his hand out as if to rein Dean in but it was too late. Dean lunged for the bartender, his mind locked only on his need to kill. The man had no chance to run, but that of course didn’t stop him from trying. Just as he turned on his heals Dean’s hands wrapped around his throat, strangling his cries. Dean snapped his neck without a second thought and slammed his lifeless body down across the bar. Only when Dean heard a muffled sob did he stop.

         Sam had watched the entire thing in horror, powerless to stop the monster his brother had become. He had slid down against the wall with his good hand covering his mouth but not his eyes for he was unable to look away. He just watched. He just cried. Dean took in his surroundings like a man sobering up. Had this not happened so many times before he might have been shocked. He’d broken the bartender as if he was a toy because to Dean that’s all he had been. He turned his back to Sam, looking down at his hands in what might have been shame.

         “I told you to let me go, Sam,” he muttered in disgust. “This is who I am now. Can’t you see that? You’re just going to have to deal with it.” Dean clenched his eyes closed; grinding his teeth as he made what he thought was his final decision. But before he could leave, let Sam be rid of him forever, hunt down Crowley and just be a demon, Sam was upon him and twisting his arms around into the cuffs again.

         “No,” Sam whispered. “We’re going home.”  Dean thought about fighting him, thought about making a break for it, but then he didn’t. Instead he let Sam lead him out to the impala.

         “You’re wasting your time Sam. And mine.” It was the only quip Dean gave, sad and defeated. Sam ignored him. He also ignored the state of the impala though it took all his strength to do so. He helped Dean into the passenger seat.

         “Not going to toss me in the back like a criminal, Sammy? Like a monster?”

         Sam sighed at the bitterness in his brother’s voice. Then he pulled a syringe from the glove box. Dean’s nostrils flared. He tried to scoot away from his brother. Sam caught Dean’s chin in his fingertips.

         “Look at me,” Sam whispered. Dean’s eyes were black again, his lips pressed in a thin line. Sam tapped Dean’s chin with his thumb once, a silent warning for Dean not move, not to look away. Sam filled the syringe with his blood, needing the first of many injections to come from him, as well as the last. Then he reached down for Dean’s arms. Dean was not prepared for the sensation of his brother’s, his long time soul mate’s, blood being shoved in his veins pushing the putrid demon blood aside. He tossed his head back and howled in agony, nearly writhing in the seat as he tried to jerk away. Sam dropped to his knees, putting his forehead to Dean’s.

            “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I love you, Dean. I love you. I’m so sorry,” Sam whispered a string of sweet nothings to his tortured brother. Then he tucked the syringe away, got in the car, and drove all the way back to the bunker. Neither of them noticed the absence of Cole’s body.


	3. Through the Fire and Flames

         “Is this really necessary, Sammy?” Dean tugged against the cuffs binding his wrists to the chair in the bunker’s dungeon.

         “I don’t know, Dean, is it?” Sam’s voice was harsh as he filled the syringe with blood he’d stolen from the hospital. Dean had fought him all the way home after he’d woken from the first injection of Sam’s blood. Then Dean had lunged for Sam, screamed at him, and argued with him throughout the hours of being locked in the bunker. Now they only had a few injections left and Dean experienced more agony with each one, growing more livid by the second. He growled in disgust as Sam approached him yet again.

         “You know, you could be killing me. You think about that yet?”

         Sam stopped cold. Of course he had thought about it. He knew it was a possibility, but what choice did he have? He had to keep going.

         “Yeah you’ve thought about it. I’m surprised you have the balls to keep going, Sammy.”

         “I have to keep going.”

         “Nah, you don’t. You could just let me go. I’ll leave. Hell it’s what I tried to do in the first place. Get as far away from you as possible, far away from your whining, your bitching. I chose the king of Hell over you and I’d choose _any_ demon over you. I’d choose all the demons in the world over having to babysit you and drag your lame crying ass out of the constant fire you find yourself in. I was tired of the constant reminder that if it weren’t for you my mother would still be alive. I was done having my life ruined by you. And yet, here I am again.”

         Sam was shaking his head as he turned to face Dean. “This isn’t my Dean talking.”

         “No, you’re right, it isn’t, because Dean was never yours. All you had was an excuse not to be a man. All you were was a piece of ass, and not very good ass at that. But I fucking quit. I can do so much better than you, Sammy. You’re just a worthless child to me now. I no longer have to pity you.”

         “You don’t get to fucking quit, not in this family. This family is all we’ve ever had. You and I are all there is, remember?!”

         “You still believing that old lie, Sammy?”

         Sam stalked toward his brother, done arguing with a demon.

         “Oh is this you manning up? You’re doing a bang up job,” Dean was now grasping at straws, anything to make Sam stop shooting him up with human blood.

         “This is me yanking your lame ass out of the fire, Dean.” Sam inserted the needle in Dean’s vein. “You’re welcome.”

         Dean’s head fell back, lips apart as he screeched in anguish. He tossed his head from side to side, fists clenched so tight all the veins in his arms were protruding. Finally his head drooped forward. He panted in exhaustion.

         “Dean,” Sam questioned, concern and guilt clouding his features. Dean refused to look at him, not sure he’d even be able to lift his head if he wanted to.

         “Fuck off, Sam,” was all Dean could muster. Sam left without another word.

         Sam found himself wondering the bunker halls aimlessly in wait of the final injection. One from his blood, just like the first. He still had the syringe in his hand and he rolled it between his fingers. He started down the hall to the dungeon, his heart pounding.  He rounded the corner and sucked the blood from his arm into the syringe, prepared to go in with his no nonsense act. Sam stopped in his tracks. The room was empty, chains and handcuffs all tossed to the floor. Dean had disappeared. Sam slammed his back against the wall, pocketing the syringe and replacing it with the demon knife. He slid along the wall making his way quickly to the breaker room. He switched off the lights and switched on the emergency system, locking the bunker down.

         Dean watched the warning lights flicker as he stepped into the kitchen, choosing a hammer from one of the drawers. He grinned with the thrill of the chase.

         “Come on, Sammy! Let’s play a game!” Dean called out as he ventured through rooms and halls in search of his brother. He heard footsteps close by as he followed the same trail Sam had taken.

         “Don’t you want to spend some quality time with your big brother? God, it’s been so long hasn’t it,” Dean taunted.  He reached into the breaker room as he passed it, undoing all Sam’s little tricks. The lights danced back on down the hall.

         Sam now knew where Dean was, of course. But instead of searching him out, he tried to keep hidden, crouching down the wall a bit as he turned another corner. Suddenly a hammer crashed into the wall above Sam’s head.

         “Dean,” Sam shrieked, coming back up to face his brother with the demon knife out to his throat. Dean stood perfectly still.

         “Go ahead, Sammy, slit big brother’s throat. Let all that demon blood gush across your hand and on to the floor.” Dean’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Just don’t let it go to waste.”

         Sam was frozen in his stance. He knew what would happen if he dropped his arm, at least he thought he did. But still he couldn’t bring himself to end Dean, whether this was really him or not. He just couldn’t do it. Sam grimaced as tears pricked the corners of his eyes. Dean smirked. Without another word Sam dropped the knife to the ground and gave Dean the tiniest, saddest smile. But Dean couldn’t be bothered to care. His arm swung wide, jerking the hammer out of the wall.

         “Goodbye, Sammy,” Dean laughed menacingly. But just before he could strike Sam’s skull with the hammer the youngest Winchester stepped into Dean’s open arms, forcing a kiss against the demon’s lips. Dean dropped his arm in surprise, only to be met with a burning on the inside of his elbow as Sam stuck the syringe into his vein and pushed in the last injection. The hammer clattered to the floor as Dean stumbled back, tripping over his own feet and toppling on to his ass. He thrashed on the floor, screaming out the only word that he could will to his lips: Sam.

         Sam fell to his knees, lifting Dean’s head in his hand. He tried to soothe Dean, to console him, to keep him focused on anything but what was going on in his body. But Dean couldn’t think or even see. He blacked out into oblivion, hoping and praying never to return.


	4. Letting Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This get's ever so slightly graphic not in the good way. Possible triggers for sexual abuse.

         Dean twisted onto his stomach, tossing his arm off the side of the bed. His wrist met with the nightstand harshly, jarring him awake. His eyes squinted in the dim room as his hands felt for the switch on the lamp. He was in his bedroom on his bed nestled under the covers in nothing but his underwear. His mind surged with memories of what had gone down just hours earlier, followed closely by memories of weeks in which he’d done things he’d long sworn against. His heart pounded in his ears. He sat up slowly, steadying himself against the bedframe. He listened for Sam but the bunker seemed silent. Dean swung his legs over the edge and stood up, going in search of his brother. As he made his way to the kitchen he heard the bunker door slam shut. Sam came down the stairs slowly; his hands filled with take out and booze. Sam looked up expecting to find the kitchen empty. He gasped at the site of his brother sporting only his boxers and hair mangled from hours of deep much needed slumber. Dean tried to smile at him, but suspected he didn’t quite make it.

         “Dean,” Sam breathed.

         “Heya, Sammy... Whatchya got there,” Dean questioned nodding to Sam’s hands. Sam grimaced slightly as he ventured in and set the take out bag on the counter.

         “Got you some food,” Sam stated simply, artfully avoiding Dean’s eyes as he sat at the bar and opened himself a beer. He did offer one to Dean, but he declined. Dean ate his food in silence and by the time he’d finished Sam was ready to start a fifth beer.

         “Sam,” Dean whispered. Sam froze. “I’m so sorry.”

         “It’s not your fault,” Sam started but Dean held up his hand.

         “Don’t. It is. I am so god damned sorry, Sam. I’m sorry I took the mark, I’m sorry I couldn’t defeat Metatron, I’m sorry I left, and I am so, so sorry about everything I said to you, everything I did. Jesus, Sam, I…”

         “Please stop.”

         Dean went silent.

         “Please, just don’t start. Not right now. Right now…fuck Dean. I can’t handle it right now.” Tears streamed down Sam’s cheeks. He refused to look at Dean.

         “I love you,” Dean murmured. He knew Sam was going to need space, space and oh so much time. But he had to say that one thing. If nothing else, he had to make sure Sam still knew that he loved him more than anything in the entire world.

         “Do you?!” Sam’s voice was louder than he’d intended. He was sobbing in earnest now as he shoved back from the bar. Dean’s head shot up. Sam chucked the empty beer bottle in his hands against the wall and it shattered. He started to storm away but hardly had the strength as his chest shook with his cries. He stumbled over his feet, crashing into the broken glass piles littering the floor. Dean jumped from his seat.

         “Sammy, Sammy! Stop! Breathe!”

         Sam could hardly hear his brother and he couldn’t be bothered to care. He needed this. He’d needed this for so fucking long. He let everything go, screaming as he cried. He let Dean pull him away from the glass and cradle him in his arms. He pushed Sam’s hair away from his face and rocked back and forth just slightly. Sam cried for what seemed like hours until finally he couldn’t muster the strength to keep going. His sobs died out around the same time Dean’s steady stream of tears, which had gone unnoticed until then by Sam, began to falter. Sam couldn’t look at his brother, ashamed of his sudden break down. Just because Dean had been cured didn’t mean Sam could give up being strong for him. He tried to pull away and stand up, only then realizing the amount of cuts and glass possessed by his skin. He groaned as he got to his feet. Dean followed him up.

         “Sam don’t,” Dean began.

         “Don’t what, Dean?”

         “Don’t shut me out…”

         Sam stopped, pondering how many times one of them had said those words to the other. He thought about the cluster fuck they’d been through, the last time they’d held each other, and the last time they’d said ‘I love you’. He sighed with weight of it all once more. And then he just let it go. He didn’t wish for the millionth time that they’d been allowed normal lives. He didn’t regret every decision he’d made to get Dean back. He didn’t dwell on all the words Dean had thrown at him in his time as a demon. He merely turned back to his brother stiffly due to the glass, a few tears still trailing down his cheeks every now and again. Dean took Sam’s hand gently and led him to the bathroom.

         “Let me help you,” Dean questioned softly as he pulled a first aid kit from the cabinet.

         “Yeah,” was all Sam could manage. He was exhausted. Hell, they both were. Dean started removing glass from Sam’s clothes and skin as gently as he could. Sam let Dean remove the sling from his arm, confessing that his arm was nearly completely healed. Soon after Dean was tugging Sam’s shirt over his head very carefully in search of more pieces of bottle. By the time all the glass was gone both boys stood in only their boxers. Dean took a damp cloth to Sam’s skin with extra caution. He slowed over any bruises caused by Cole like the fingerprints on his neck and the circular fist bruises on his chest. Dean kneeled down and took the cloth up from Sam’s ankles. He only stopped upon reaching Sam’s knees, which held a large round bruise on the inside of each one. Sam opened his eyes, which had closed in content for the shortest of moments, to see why Dean had stopped. His pupils widened and he tried to pull away. Dean wrapped his fingers around Sam’s thighs, holding him gently in place.

         “What are those from, Sammy?” Dean’s voice was almost too quiet to hear. Sam was silent. “Did Cole do this,” Dean pressed. Sam exhaled slowly. He could only nod, his mind racked with the memories of Cole shoving a spreader bar between his knees and playing a game of darts with Sam’s genitals as the target. Cole’s aim was just good enough to create the most torturous interrogation Sam had ever endured. Or at least that was what Sam had thought until Cole moved on to a pair of vampire gloves. With those he had wrapped his fingers around Sam’s penis, drawing more blood still. Sam was afraid to think what all the skin hidden under his boxers might look like to Dean. His ass had been whipped into a bloody crisscrossing of lines, his genitals had been prodded and poked, and his upper thighs had been drizzled in thin rivers of boiling water. Sam slammed his eyes closed again and tried to shake the recollections from his mind. Then he gasped as he felt Dean’s fingers at the waistband of his underwear. Dean's eyes pleaded with Sam to let him see what had been done, to let him help. Sam could see a tear on Dean’s cheek just barely as he squinted at his older brother.

         “Please,” Sam whispered. “Don’t. You won’t like what you find.”

         “I won’t if you really don’t want me to, Sammy. But I’m begging you to let me.”           

         Sam cringed at the thought, his hands wrapped around Dean’s holding them still. Then he gave up; he let go.


	5. Missed This

        Dean took Sam’s boxers down agonizingly slowly. Only when they’d reached Sam’s ankles did Dean dare to look back up. His lips parted in what would’ve been a gasp had the air not been knocked from his lungs. Sam’s dick was covered in shallow scratches and what looked like pin pricks. His thighs possessed burns like the roads and rivers of a map all the way up to his hips. Dean leaned in, his lips ghosting across a soon to be scar right over Sam’s hipbone. He slid his hand up to Sam’s ass in an attempt to hold the beaten man in place only to be met with a sudden jump. Dean’s eyes flashed to the mirror on the wall behind them where he was met with the sight of deep gashes across the cheeks of Sam’s backside.

         “Oh, Sammy…”

         Sam shuddered at the feeling of Dean’s breath.

         “Sam I swear to you… if I had… my god… Sam I am so sorry. I am so fucking sorry. He will not get away with-”

         “Dean,” Sam cut him off. “Can we just…please let’s move on from this.”

         “Sam he…” Dean paused with the memory of the last person he’d killed, right there in front of Sam. He shuddered as Sam’s tormented, terrified face flashed through his mind.

         “Okay, Sam. Okay.” Dean nodded. Then he prompted Sam to turn around so he could tend to the wounds found there. Dean cleaned Sam up slowly but surely, taking the utmost care. Before he applied anything but warm water Dean pressed his lips tenderly to each and every mark etched into the skin of Sam’s ass. A little breath escaped Sam’s lips as Dean’s lips caressed him, and when Dean applied ointment to his lesions Sam whimpered just a bit. Dean blew cool streams of air across his brother’s bum. The sensation was almost more than Sam could take, his cock already fighting to harden against his body’s utter exhaustion. Finally Dean started to slide Sam’s boxers back into place, even over Sam’s half erection. Dean stood and nuzzled Sam’s ear. Sam groaned with want.

         “The always insatiable Sammy,” Dean chuckled. It’d been so long since Sam heard Dean’s sincere little laugh he had to giggle himself. The sounds for both brothers were so welcome that soon they broke out into full on laughter, nearly doubling over in enjoyment. They wrapped their arms around each other, Sam hardly feeling any discomfort in his left. When their outburst died down the boys were pressed against the bathroom wall, their faces buried on either side of the other’s neck.

         “Sam,” Dean whispered, “Sammy I love you, please, please, know that I love you.”

         “I know. I know. I’m sorry about earlier. I just…”

         “I know.”

         “I love you too, Dean. God how I love you.” Sam kissed Dean’s neck, then his jawline, then his cheeks, his eyelids, and his nose. Finally Sam kissed Dean’s lips. He kissed Dean like he hadn’t in months, which in all honesty was true. He hadn’t kissed the real Dean, his Dean, in months. Dean kissed Sam back with maybe more force than either were really ready for but still they went with it, clung to it like a life line. Dean’s hand snaked up to wrap in Sam’s hair and Sam’s fingers dug into Dean’s hips pulling him as close as the two could be without fucking right there against the wall. That thought crossed Sam’s mind as he felt Dean’s rock hard cock grind against his own. Sam bucked his hips hard into Dean without thinking.

         “Sam,” Dean growled in warning. He wasn’t sure they should go this far yet. They were both exhausted, both trying to heal in more ways than one. Concern clouded Dean’s mind as he thought about Sam’s injuries as well as his mental state. Sam, of course, was unsure as well, worried about Dean’s mental state rather than his own. But it had been so long…he needed Dean in the most primal of ways, the way they had always needed each other, and he needed him now. Sam bucked against Dean again sending a shudder up his big brother’s spine. Dean practically snarled and pushed Sam back against the wall a bit forcefully. He stepped back to catch his breath.

         “De,” Sam whined, not caring how desperate he sounded or looked with his fingers tugging on Dean’s waistband.

         “Sammy, Sammy wait.” Dean held Sam’s wrists still. The youngest Winchester froze, immediately thinking the worst, thinking he’d been foolish to assume Dean would still want him after seeing what Cole had done. Dean saw his brother’s eyes cloud and his face fall. He kissed Sam quickly and passionately, effectively halting the damaging thoughts in their tracks.

         “Don’t,” Dean murmured against Sam’s lips. “I know what you’re thinking. It’s not that. It won’t ever be that. I’m just worried, Sammy. You’re exhausted and you’re hurt. I don’t want to push you farther than you’re ready to go.”

         Sam was shaking his head before Dean even finished. “I’m fine.”

         “You can’t lie to me, Sammy. I’m not even sure why you still try.”

         Sam sighed. “Dean, please. Please. I need you.” His voice was barely audible and a look of longing clung to his eyes.

         “Sammy,” Dean sighed. He considered suggesting just a blowjob. He’d gladly worship Sam’s dick and attempt to kiss away all the damage and pain found around there. Then he could hold his brother while he slept and pretend he’d never have to let him go. But Sam needed more than that. He strained against Dean’s hold. Then he gave Dean his best puppy eyes.

         “Please fuck me, De,” he whispered. It was enough to drive Dean wild. He groaned in defeat, drawing Sam back into his embrace. Sam cupped Dean’s ass, digging his fingers in and grinding hard against his brother’s erection all the while ignoring any discomfort from his wounds. The guttural moan produced from Dean’s throat nearly had Sam coming undone at the seams. The oldest Winchester jerked Sam’s head back by his air in order to sink his teeth into Sam’s neck.

         “Ah!” Sam gasped in pleasure; thrilled at the thought of the bruise his brother’s teeth were sure to leave. Suddenly Dean was backing out into the hall and venturing to his bedroom, pulling Sam along by the waistband of his underwear and trying to kiss him as they walked without falling over. Once inside his room Dean slid down to his knees against his bed, positioning Sam in front of him. He slipped Sam’s boxers down slowly, keeping his eyes locked above on his brother’s face. Sam’s head fell back with the feeling of Dean’s hot breath on his aching member. Dean gave the beautiful cock in his face an almost tentative lick on the underside from base to tip. A soft whimper escaped Sam’s lips.

         “Miss this, Sammy?” Dean smirked at Sam’s almost exasperated ‘yeah.’ He nodded contently. “Me too.” He wrapped his lips tightly around the head of his not-so-little Sammy’s dick, humming as he slid his lips down and back again at an agonizingly slow pace. The oldest Winchester did this a few times, never speeding up even a little. Sam was dying to thrust his cock into Dean’s throat but Dean’s firm hands on his hips held him still. Finally Sam reached down and dragged Dean up from his knees.

         “Dean,” Sam implored him, drawing out his name. Dean chuckled.

         “Come on! Wanna take my time, Sammy.”

         “Later.” Sam shook his head and crushed his lips to Dean’s. “Need you now.”


	6. Force of an Army

         “Right now? Right this second?” Dean taunted, tugging on Sammy’s bottom lip with his teeth.

         “De,” Sam whined. He dropped back onto the bed pulling Dean along with him. The oldest Winchester fell around his brother clumsily.

         “Patience, Sammy,” Dean chuckled. Sam groaned in response. Dean slid backwards, kissing Sam’s chest along the way. He pushed Sam’s knees up slowly, fearful of hurting his brother. He smoothed a palm over Sam’s ass.

         “Gotta go slow, Sammy. Okay?”

         Sam grumbled but nodded. Dean slipped his fingertips between Sam’s cheeks, teasing over his hole. Sam whimpered Dean’s name. Dean shifted down further, holding Sam’s cheeks apart as gently as he could. He flicked his tongue forcefully over Sam’s hole. A moan was punched from Sam’s gut. Dean slipped his fingers in alongside his tongue, opening Sam up to him. He picked up speed, crooking his fingers just right and aiming for Sam’s prostate. Sam was panting and moaning, getting louder with each brush against that special spot. Suddenly Dean’s other hand came up to grasp Sam’s dick which twitched with each push of Dean’s fingers into him. Sam cried out as the pad of Dean’s thumb slid over the slit in the head of his cock.

         “Dean,” Sam groaned as he was dragged closer and closer to the edge. Dean crooked his fingers again.

         “Gonna come for me, Sammy?”

         Sam’s body went rigid at Dean’s words, his back arching off the bed as he shouted his brother’s name. Dean gave Sam no time to breathe or relax as he lined up with Sam’s hole, sliding in with one smooth motion and a groan.

         “Fuck Sammy, so tight.” He leaned down to kiss his little brother’s lips. “Think you can come for me again, baby?”

         Sam whimpered in response. Dean pulled nearly all the way out and shoved back in, holding back as much force as he could.

         “Fuck,” Sam gasped.

         “Still want it rough, Sammy?” Dean was whispering filthily in Sam’s ear, stilling his hips.

         “Please De,” Sam begged as he twisted on Dean’s cock, desperate for friction.

         “Say it.” Dean closed his teeth around Sam’s nipple. “Tell me what you want, what you need.”

         “I need it hard, De. Please fuck me. Make it hurt. Make me scream. Please. Please!” Sam’s head tossed with his attempts to make Dean move. God he needed this, needed Dean to fuck him until he forgot his entire world, his own name, everything but his big brother who loved him with the force of an army of angels. Or demons.

         Sam’s words were all Dean needed to hear. He pulled back again but then paused just one last time.

         “Gotta tell me if I hurt you, Sam,” he pleaded as his finger traced a burn on Sam’s thigh. Sam’s eyes shot to Dean’s.

         “You won’t,” he answered. With that Dean slammed his cock into Sam’s ass. Sam’s dick was rock hard again and Dean wrapped his hand around it roughly, stroking as he fucked his brother into oblivion.

         “Fuck, Sammy. Fuck yes. Scream for me baby brother.”

         “Harder Dean! Harder please!” Sam shrieked as his brother’s cock pounded into his prostate over and over. The sight of Sam losing it under him was driving Dean to the edge faster than he’d anticipated but he was too sexed out to care. He picked up speed on Sam’s dick; sliding his fingertips over the slit each time they passed the head. A string of ‘fuck’ and ‘Dean’ was flowing freely from Sam’s lips. Dean used his spare hand to push Sam’s legs as far back as they would go.

         “Come on, Sammy. Show me how much you love being stretched around my cock. Come for me, little brother. Come!”

         Sam fell apart at his brother’s orders, screaming Dean’s name like it was the last word he’d ever speak, coming over his stomach, and tightening hard around Dean’s cock. Dean thrust almost violently into Sam one last time as far as he could go.

         “Oh Sammy,” Dean groaned as he shot his hot seed deep in Sam’s ass. He fell over his brother, his forehead against Sam’s shoulder. He panted in exhilaration. Sam panted with him, his heart beating wildly. His ass stung and his body ached with exhaustion. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes. He sniffled.

         “Sammy?” Dean pulled back to find Sam crying despite the huge grin on the younger Winchester’s face.

         “I’m good,” Sam gave some sort of chuckled sob. “I’m so, so good. I love you so much.”

         “I love you too, Sammy.” Dean grinned and planted a soft kiss over Sam’s eyelids. Sam sniffed again.

         “Sorry,” Sam sniveled with a half grin, embarrassed at his emotional state.

         “It’s okay to cry, Sammy, happy tears, sad tears, whatever. I’m just glad…” He trailed off.

         “What?”

         “I’m just glad you’re letting me be here, letting me in again.”

         Sam looked at him seriously. “We were being pretty shitty to each other, huh?”

         “Yeah. Yeah we were.” Dean almost looked away, but thought better.

         “Can we… can we never do that again?”

         “You got it, Sammy. You got it.”

         They lay there tangled in each other, a mess of sweat and come, just happy to be alive, just happy to be in each other’s presence.


	7. Restore to Glory

         Sam’s hair lay tossed over his face and his arm hung off one side of the bed while his foot hung off the other. He was on his stomach and he was snoring peacefully. He shifted under the sheets, flinging an arm across the space beside him, Dean’s space, but the bed was too cold for comfort. Sam awoke with a start. He was alone in Dean’s room.

         “Dean?” Panic filled him. He jumped up completely nude. His arm ached from not wearing his sling and his groin and ass ached from his healing wounds but he ignored it all, swinging the bedroom door wide and walking out urgently.

         “Dean!” He called for his brother as he wondered the halls, the living room, the kitchen, the bathroom, the dungeon, the boiler room, everywhere Dean could possibly go. With each empty space Sam grew more frantic, his voice more urgent. He broke into a clumsy run, tears beginning to fall down his cheeks making it hard to see. The keys to the Impala were gone from where he’d tossed them and he ran to the garage knowing what he’d find there but still begging it not to be true. He threw the door open letting it bang against the wall with entirely too much force.

         “Sam!?” Dean jumped with the sudden intrusion. His shirt was off, his chest smeared with dirt and grease, and the Impala doors were open, ACDC drifting from the radio. The Impala’s interior was drying from a thorough wash and the hood was in the midst of being polished. Sam blinked and tried to gain control of his blubbering. He realized how foolish he must look standing in the doorway naked and sweaty, sobbing uncontrollably and causing his entire body to shake. Dean was beside him in a second putting his hands on either side of his face, searching his body for any sign of harm, searching his eyes for any answers.

         “I…thought-” Sam’s words were cut off with another shaky sob. “You were gone!” Sam cried covering his face with his hands. Dean took him in his arms, trying to calm him down.

         “I’m right here, see?” Dean placed Sam’s palm against his chest so Sam could feel his heart beat. “I’m so sorry, Sammy, I didn’t think. I’m not going anywhere. Not ever again. Breathe, Sam. It’s okay.”

         Sam shuddered; the memory of the last time Dean left plaguing his mind. He buried his face in Dean’s neck and breathed in Dean’s scent as Dean wrapped his hands in Sammy’s hair. Finally Sam calmed enough to observe what had really happened this morning when he’d assumed Dean had departed. Sam gave a small smile at the sight of the Impala nearly completely restored to glory, as the real Dean preferred. Then he shifted slightly glancing down Dean’s back. He was wearing those jeans that he always wore to work on cars and things in, the faded ones with holes peppering the denim, including a rather large one just below the right back pocket. From that Sam could tell that Dean wasn’t wearing underwear. Sam planted a little kiss on Dean’s shoulder.

         “See? Everything is okay, Sammy.”

         Sam nodded and pulled back a bit, blushing upon remembering that he was completely nude. Dean mouth twitched with the hint of a smirk. Sam’s eyes traveled down Dean’s body. The top button of his jeans were undone and a rag hung from his front pocket; his feet were bare. Dean’s hands slid down Sam’s sides to his hip. He squatted down in front of Sam’s groin to inspect the healing process. Sam blushed a deep crimson. Dean looked up at him with a gentle smile and gave a little twirling motion with his fingers, signaling Sam to turn. He shuffled around and Dean laid his hand gently over the whip marks.

         “Let’s go clean these up again,” Dean suggested, standing up. He stepped in front of Sam, taking his hand and leading him to the bathroom by the living room. Dean grabbed the first aid kit and motioned for Sam to go lay on the couch. Dean poured over Sam’s wounds just as thoroughly as he had the day before, cleaning each one individually and then smearing them with a thin layer of ointment. They looked better already.

         “How do you feel, Sammy?”

         Sam shrugged. “Content.” It was the best answer he could give, and god it felt good to say. He was sore of course; he was still emotionally damaged of course. But all in all he was okay. He had his Dean back, completely back. He twisted around on the couch to look at his brother.

         “I should’ve left you a note or something this morning,” Dean confessed. Sam shook his head.

         “I freaked out. I’m sorry. And I wouldn’t want another note.” Sam gave an involuntary shudder. “Just…wake me up and tell me next time I think…”

         Dean leaned down to kiss his brother. “I will.”

         The feel of Dean’s lips on his had Sam wrapping his arms around Dean’s neck. Dean’s arms shot forward to catch himself on either side of Sam as the youngest Winchester pulled him closer.

         “Sam!” Dean mumbled against his brother’s lips. Sam chuckled. One of Dean’s hands slid down Sam’s chest a bit and pushed back in order to free himself. Sam grumbled unhappily when Dean stood over him again. Dean smirked.

         “If I recall correctly I was kinda doing something. Can I finish that please?”

         Sam almost offered up a complaint until remembering the way Dean looked when he worked on the Impala. He nodded sheepishly.

         “Can I watch?”

         Dean laughed. “Yeah.” He turned on his heels heading towards the garage. “But put some clothes on, jolly green giant! I’d like to be able to focus on my work! Gah!”

         Sam shook his head with a snort. He sprinted off and dressed quickly in merely a t-shirt and boxers. Then he followed after his brother, already anticipating the way Dean’s muscles flexed, the sound of his voice when he sang along with the radio, and the gleam of sweat across his torso.


	8. You Come Back to Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a tad bit shorter than the others. But I'll update again soon. Thanks so much to everyone reading it. You're all hella great. <3

         Dean was humming softly as Sam stepped back into the garage. He took a seat against the wall by the door, happily watching his brother from a distance. Dean grinned when he noticed Sam and his attire watching him from afar.

         “Don’t wanna be up close and personal, Sammy?”

         Sam smiled and shook his head. Dean shrugged and began singing along to the song from the radio, getting louder with each note. He finished up the hood and reached in the car to turn up the volume. Sam laughed as Dean danced shamelessly around the Impala and the rest of the garage.

         “Ah, Sammy, it’s good to be back!”

         Sam blinked. He had almost forgotten there had been a time just days ago when Dean had lived his days crossing every line and breaking every rule, all the while Sam did the same. He frowned. Dean noticed.

         “What’s-a matter?”

         Sam shook his head trying to release the memory. Dean danced over to him and pulled him to his feet.

         “Ya think too much, Sammy!”

         Sam gave a little smile and tried his best to dance with his brother, to laugh with the relief of having Dean’s eyes back to their permanent green. But the thoughts that tormented him would not leave. He shrugged away from his dancing partner. Dean stopped.

         “Sam!” He called after the youngest Winchester who was making his way back into the bunker. Dean killed the radio and ran after him. He caught up to him in the living room. “Sam, wait! What the hell?”

         “I just don’t feel like dancing, Dean.”

         “Don’t lie, you love dancing with me. What’s going on?”

         “I’m just not in the mood,” Sam retorted.

         “Why,” Dean pressed with a bit more demand in his voice.

         “Because dammit, I’m just not!” Sam spun around, swinging his arms. He didn’t expect Dean to be so close. Strong hands caught Sam’s wrists before they could collide with his brother’s torso. Dean blinked, a bit surprised that he’d almost been hit. Sam tried to pull away but Dean wasn’t having it.

         “You gonna tell me what the hell is going through that head or not?”

         Sam pressed his lips into a line.

         “All right. Fine.” Dean pushed his little brother onto the couch in one swift movement and sat on him to hold him still. “I’m not moving until you talk to me.”

         Sam scoffed.

         “Something funny?”

         “Get off of me, Dean.”

         “No.”

         “You’re being a fucking child. Get off!”

         “So are you!”

         “God dammit, Dean get the fuck off of me! No, I’m not being a fucking child! I don’t have that luxury!”

         “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

         Sam shoved hard, bucking under Dean and throwing him into the floor. He stood up off the couch and started to turn away.

         “Don’t you dare fucking do this. Tell me what you meant!” Dean called after him as he raised up on his knees.

         “I meant I don’t get to do all this! I don’t get to act like a kid! I don’t get to blame all the fucked up shit I did to get you back on being a demon. What the hell am I supposed to say? I tricked Lester into selling his soul for love? I rubbed every hunter I know the wrong way for love? I pushed myself and our friends to the brink of insanity and exhaustion so I could have my brother back? Is that what I should tell them?” Sam’s face was red with embarrassment and frustration at himself, at Dean, and at world for that matter.

         “Yes.”

         Sam shook his head. “What?”

         “Yes. You tell them you did it for love. Hell that’s as good a reason as any, isn’t it?”

         Sam didn’t answer.

         “Well? You got a better one? Hell Sam we’ve dedicated our entire lives to doing the right thing. Wrong reasons, right reasons, whatever. What about all the people you saved by turning me back, huh? What about all the people we’ve saved in the past? You act like that’s all just gone because we made some mistakes.”

         “We always make mistakes! I always make mistakes!”

         “And we always right them! Hell, we at least try to! So don’t do this pity party shit, Sammy. You’ve owned up. Now let it go. You call everyone who helped you out and you thank them, you apologize, you take what they say with a grain of salt, and you move on. You come back to me. We’re all we’ve got, remember?” Dean wasn’t sure brining up something Sam had said to him while he was a demon was a good idea, but he had to try it because that statement mattered. That meant something. Sam’s face calmed, he pushed his hair back aimlessly. Finally he nodded.

         “Yeah?”

         “Yeah,” Sam sighed. He could do that. He had to do that. Dean was right. What was done was done. There was only so much they could do now. Dean stood up with a slight groan.

         “I got shit to answer for too, Sammy. But neither of us can even start that if we don’t do it together.”

         Sam nodded again. “Together,” he agreed.

         Dean shuffled his feet, unsure if Sam was still irritated or not. “Can I kiss you now,” Dean asked, flustered. Sam gave a short laugh. He nodded one last time.

         “Yeah.”


	9. Hungry

         “You hungry?” Sam called into the garage around lunchtime where Dean was still working on the Impala.

         “Starved! Just finishing her up, be right in.”

         “She looks great,” Sam praised him. Dean beamed.

         “You think?”

         “Of course.” The younger man walked over to get a closer look. He gave Dean a quick peck on the lips. “She always looks beautiful when you clean her up. You know that. Hell, the prettiest I’ve ever seen her are the times when you’ve spent hours- sometimes days- on her.”

         Dean’s grin widened, a mischievous look in his eyes. “Didn’t know you and Baby had such a love affair!”

         Sam shoved at his arm. Dean leaned in closer to whisper in Sam’s ear.

         “And I can think of a few times when she’s been prettier.” Dean’s teeth closed on Sam’s earlobe. He blushed as he thought about all the times Dean had bent him over the hood of the impala and fucked him senseless, all the times Dean had just stood back to admire the look of his little brother spread out across his car with semen sprayed across the paint. Of course he always made sure she was thoroughly cleaned afterwards. Sam shuddered as Dean’s hand snaked down his back to his ass.

         “You know…” Dean began.

         “You literally just got done cleaning her, Dean!” Sam laughed as he protested Dean’s line of thought. Dean nodded in agreement then shrugged.

         “I can clean her again.”

         Sam was shaking his head in amusement. “I thought you were hungry.”

         “Oh Sammy, I am.” Dean turned Sam around and began pushing him down. “I am completely and utterly famished.” He finished with a smirk as he leaned down over his brother. He started off slow, kissing Sam’s face in all the sweetest places. When he reached Sam’s lips, however, it was becoming harder to control himself. Their kiss became heavier; each fighting for dominance over the other, but Dean had the upper hand, literally. He forced Sam’s wrists above his head and held them down. With his other hand Dean pushed Sam's shirt up in order for his lips to gain access to Sam’s nipples. Sam thrust his hips into nothing, gasping in pleasure. Dean swirled his tongue around each nipple, biting down every now and again. Sam was finding it harder and harder to keep still.

         “Ugh Dean!”

         Dean raised his head. “What’s that, Sammy?”

         “Lemme touch you,” Sam pleaded, his voice full of lust. Dean released Sam’s arms but before his brother could touch him he was sliding back and yanking Sam’s boxers to the floor. Sam pulled his own shirt off in the mean time, tossing it aside. When Dean stood back up Sam’s hands flew to his fly but Dean was having none of it. He held Sam’s wrists down again so he could grind his rock hard, denim covered cock against Sam’s bare member. Sam nearly came right then and there.

         “De!” Sam was writhing and screeching under his brother.

         “Fuck Sammy.” Dean breathed. The sight of Sam on the hood of the Impala was almost more than Dean could take. He stepped back, releasing Sam completely, so he could kick the restraining jeans aside. Before he could step back to Sam, though, the younger man was slipping swiftly to his knees and swallowing Dean’s cock in one swift motion. Dean practically squeaked in surprise, his hand flying to twist itself in Sam’s hair and hold him still for a moment. He pulled back so Sam would look up at him. Dean groaned at the sight of his little Sammy’s lips stretched around him, cheeks flushed and eyes wide and dark with lust. Dean beamed.

         “You look so beautiful with your lips on my big, fat cock, baby.”

         Sam whimpered and nodded once. Dean loosened his hand ever so slightly allowing Sam to move again, slowly but surely and picking up speed whenever he could.

         “Jesus Sam. I missed this. God I fucking missed this.” Nothing could make Dean moan like Sam sucking his dick. Except maybe one of them fucking deep into the other’s ass. He felt himself drawing close at the thought. He stilled Sam again. Then suddenly Dean jerked him up and shoved him back in his place on the hood. Sam moaned in response. Now it was Dean’s turn to drop to his knees. He licked a stripe down Sam’s crack, still being excruciatingly gently with Sam’s cheeks, thighs, and groin. Sam gave a throaty groan as Dean blew a cold stream of air directly at Sam’s tight little hole.

         “You like that, Sammy?”

         Sam nodded sloppily with another little whine.

         “Don’t go quiet on me now, baby brother,” Dean reprimanded. “I love to hear you beg for me.” With that Dean was lapping at Sam’s hole, spreading the youngest Winchester wide on tongue and fingers. Sammy was nearly sobbing with pleasure, imploring Dean just to fuck him.

         “De! Fuck me, please, please! Christ just fuck me already.”

         “Yeah Sammy?” Dean stood back, teasing the head of his dick back and forth across Sam’s hole. “This what you want, baby?” Dean’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Need your big brother inside your perfect, perky ass?” Dean slipped the head just past the outer ring as he taunted Sammy, loving the way he could make his lover say and do nearly anything. What he wasn’t prepared for was the way Sam wrapped his legs around Dean’s waist tightly, slamming his brother’s dick all the way into his ass with as much force as he could. Dean threw his head back with a scream of his own.

         “Fuck!” Dean stuttered.

         “De,” Sam moaned. “Move!”

         Dean was much obliged to comply with Sam’s needy request. He pulled out and paused with a smirk before slamming home again and again.

         “Fuck! Fuck yes, De! Harder, please god fuck me harder.” Sam couldn’t control the way he begged for Dean, the way he needed Dean. And Dean was thrilled to hear his brother scream for him. He did everything Sam said, fucked him just how Sam wanted it.

         “Sammy, oh Sammy,” Dean’s eyes were locked on his brother’s dick as it jerked against his stomach. Sam’s hand went for it once but Dean held it away. Sam whimpered.

         “Just on my cock, baby. Think you can do that?”

         Sam just nodded, squeezing his eyes shut as Dean slammed against his prostate.

         “That’s it Sammy, take it all for your big brother.”

         “De! Dean fuck, I’m so close. Go, De, hard, go so hard.” Sam needed everything Dean could give and Dean sure as hell gave it.

         “Come on my cock, Sammy. Please fucking come for me.” It was now Dean’s turn to beg. It was all Sam needed. His back was arching, head thrashing, nails dragging down Dean’s biceps. He screamed his brother’s name as he shot come all over the car, himself, and Dean. Dean gave a few more thrust, stuttering to a halt balls deep in his brother as Sam’s hole gave a vision whitening clench around Dean’s dick.          

         “Fuck Sammy,” Dean gasped as he came, eyes closed and mouth open, hand’s digging into his brother’s hips. He leaned over as he finished, kissing Sam roughly as he pulled out as slowly as possible. Sam panted when Dean stood back up. He intertwined his hand in Sam’s.

         “Now I could really use a cheeseburger,” Dean admitted. Sam’s laugh could be heard throughout the bunker.


	10. The Great Winchesters

         Sam went out for lunch and returned to the bunker, burgers in tow, ready for he and Dean to sit in the kitchen for just a simple meal. Hell, days ago that was way more than he could ask for. The problem was apparently it was still too much. The lights were out when he entered. He heard voices down the hall towards the dungeon. Sam nearly dropped the food, somehow managing to toss it on the table as he broke into a sprint. His knife was already in hand.

         “Dean!” His voice was filled of anxiety.

         “In here, Sammy,” Dean called to his brother his voice feigning calmness. Sam slowed as he entered the dungeon to find Dean and a stranger standing at odds.

         “The great Sam Winchester,” the stranger greeted him smarmily with a half assed bow. Dean snapped at the man.

         “Hey, hey! You shouldn’t even be looking at him. You gonna get the fuck out of here or not? Cause if not, hell, I’ll let him kill you.”

         Sam blinked at that last part but held his ground, not showing his confusion in favor of being prepared for anything. The stranger, who Sam could now tell was a demon, gave a hardy laugh.

         “You’ll let him kill me? That’s rich! What happened to your skills, Dean-o?”

         Sam noticed Dean’s fists were clenched tight. “There’s still plenty for everyone, just thought Sam here might enjoy the kill more after he hears the reasoning behind your little visit.”

         Sam couldn’t keep his mouth shut any longer. “What the hell is going on here, Dean?”

         “Our friend here, call him shithead if you will, has come to ask me to step back into the saddle. He’s made an offer to get me the first blade if I use it to kill Crowley. Apparently there’s trouble in paradise.”

         Sam’s jaw dropped then immediately clenched tightly. He stepped forward once, daggers shooting from his eyes. The demon made an attempt to smirk but frankly Sam Winchester had never not been a force to be reckoned with. The demon nearly cowered under Sam’s glare.

         “Get out.” Sam’s voice was acidic animosity. The demon’s eyes flashed to black. He needed the older Winchester. He’d come too far to back down. Crowley would kill him were he to return because by now he’d most certainly been outed as a traitor. He had no choice but to make a move on Sam Winchester. Unfortunately for him before his foot could reach the ground from the midst of his first step Sam had flung the demon knife directly into his chest. Dean’s eyes widened, not having expected Sam to act so suddenly. The demon’s body collapsed to the ground with a thud. Sam went for the knife, cleaning it on a rag he pulled from his pants. Then with an air of finality he turned back to his brother. Sam’s hardass, fury driven demeanor had subsided as he looked out from his eyelashes at Dean.

         “You okay,” Sam tried, unsure of how this encounter had affected Dean. It was no secret his brother still had the mark. It was just that neither of them knew how to handle it yet. And with everything that had happened, they’d earned a bit of down time. Dean nodded, but Sam could see he was slightly shaken. He squinted at Dean who went from nodding to shaking his head.

         “I want this thing off of me, Sammy.”

         “I know.”

         They looked at each other, confused as to where to start.

         “We could destroy the blade,” Sam tried. “Crowley clearly hasn’t.”

         “That guy could’ve been lying.”

         “He could’ve,” Sam nodded. “But do you think he was?”

         Dean shook his head.

         “What if you tried to give the mark to someone else?”

         Dean nearly choked. “I’m not doing that, Sam. I want this thing destroyed forever. How could you even-”

         “You’re right.” Sam waved his hand apologetically. “It’s just that we’re running out of options here, Dean.”

         Suddenly Cas was rushing down the hall with Hannah following closely behind. The brothers heard them coming.

         “Maybe not,” Cas was shouting, having overheard their conversation upon entering the bunker uninvited as usual. “Hannah had an idea!”

         “Hannah?!” Dean was saying skeptically as the angels entered the room. Dean’s voice immediately cut out with an apologetic glance. Sam gave his brother a ‘be nice’ expression.

         “Thanks for callin’, Cas,” Dean quipped. “You’re looking a whole hell of a lot better than when I saw you last, though.”

         Cas nodded. “Crowley killed an angel that was trying to kill Hannah and then gave me her grace,” he stated matter-of-factly. Before either Winchester could question him he was rushing forward with his story. “That’s when Hannah had the idea, you see! With that grace I was able to heal, just as all angels use their grace. Her thought was-”

         “Whoa, whoa, slow down. Crowley did what now? And since when are you best buddies with… any of these people?”

         Sam glared at Dean again fleetingly. “Cas, why don’t you just start from the beginning and go kinda slow, yeah?”

         Cas gave a short nod. “I can do that. Shall we sit?”

         Hannah spoke finally, confused by Cas’s suggestion. “Do humans often sit and talk in rooms like this?”

         Cas kind of sighed. “I meant out at the table.”

         Dean and Sam shared a look of amusement, remembering a time when Cas knew as little about the human world as Hannah did now. Then the four of them made their way out to the table where the brother’s ate their lunch and the angels told their story of how to once again save the great Dean Winchester.


	11. Dead Man Walking

         “You wanna do what now?” Dean was in a state of disbelief. The so-called “plan” Cas was proposing to the brothers sounded ludicrous to him. Sam, on the other hand, was trying to stay open minded, willing to do nearly anything to save Dean from the mark. Though, even he had to admit that letting an angel into Dean in order to basically heal the mark from the inside sounded like a shot in the dark. Dean pushed back from the table, shaking his head.

         “Well, I’m going to try and figure out an actual plan while you three sit here in la-la land with your heads up your asses.”

         Sam’s arm shot out to Dean, catching the older man’s fingers just in time. He looked at Dean with those eyes his brother could never deny. Dean sighed and plopped back down in his chair, angling his body to face Sam.

         “You don’t really think this is going to work, do you?”

         Sam gave a slight shrug and an apologetically skeptical look. “Right now it’s our best shot, De.” Sam was begging him to give it a chance. Dean closed his eyes.

         “Obviously we aren’t suggesting taking another angel's life for their grace,” Hannah spoke up. Cas eyed her, pleased with what he heard. “Merely that you let one in to control the situation from inside. The process and remnants would surely be enough to fix the problem.”

         Dean flinched at her choice of words. Being controlled was far from his forte. Sam squeezed his brother’s knee.

         “I really think this could work, Dean. The power of an angel is a force to be reckoned with as we have seen time and time again. I’m just not sure how powerful an angel we would need.”

         “Wait. You wouldn’t do it?” Dean’s eyes shot pointedly to Castiel who shook his head.

         “Dean my grace is stolen from others. What power I have I need and even that won’t last long. I would suggest Hannah, but I’m not even sure she is powerful enough.”

         Hannah looked confused, but did not argue. “Most of the powerful angels are gone, Castiel. Who were you planning on recruiting?”

         “Yeah Cas, who’s the lucky bastard that gets to parade around in my meat suit?” Fear and doubt were making Dean’s words harsher than he planned.

         “We just need it to be someone we trust, Cas. We can’t have another Gadreel.” Sam and Dean both shuddered at the memory. It was Dean’s turn to squeeze Sam’s knee. Sam gave a small smile and an even smaller nod.

         “Gabriel.”

         All three looked at the angel in confusion.

         “Gabe’s dead, man. You know, stabbed by Lucifer and all that jazz.” Dean waved his hand as he spoke. Cas shook his head.

         “I don’t think he is. You remember he came to me nearing the fight with Metatron?”

         “That entire thing was bull shit, Cas,” Dean stated matter-of-factly.

         “And besides,” Sam began. “You said he was trying to get you to listen to Metatron that night. If he was alive, why would he help us? Why would we want him to?”

         “Yeah, why the heck would you want _that_ guy back on the squad?!” Gabriel’s voice was a shock to all four members of the group. Cas stood abruptly.

         “Whoa, whoa there tiger. No reunion sex just yet,” Gabe gave his brother a wink, then pointed to Hannah. “Sis! Long time, no see,” Gabriel joked.

         “Brother, I’m afraid we’ve never met,” Hannah phrased it like a question.

         Gabriel looked at the Winchesters. “She’s fresh, huh?”

         Sam rubbed his palms down the front of his jeans. “Little bit, yeah.”

         “What’re you doing here, man,” Dean finally asked the question on everyone’s mind. Gabriel shrugged.

         “Heard my name.” He paused then made a show of clapping his hands together once. “So! What can I do you for, gentlemen and lady? A little practical joke? Dear old Luci get free again? Sam and Dean in a pickle?”

         Dean waived a hand. “Just me.”

         “Ah! So what is it this time?” Gabriel looked genuinely excited. Sam stopped Dean before he could explain further.

         “Wait a minute. You get to go first. How the hell are you even here? What was all that back with Cas and Metatron? What’s in all this for you?” Sam fired all his questions at once.

         Gabe just began nodding. “Short or long version?”

         “How about the truth,” Castiel retorted.

         “All right, all right.” Gabe held up his hands innocently. “First off, I’m hurt you really think Luci could get me. He might be older but his tricks are played out. It was all an illusion for him, for you guys, everyone. I was tired, figured I’d lay low till things died down. Number two, not entirely sure what you’re talking about there. I heard about all that flimflam and took a trip to the Bahamas instead, lovely down there.”

         Castiel cut him off. “You never tried to convince me to join Metatron and lead the angels?”

         “Little bro you act like I’m the only one that can learn a little magic. I mean I’m flattered but…” Gabriel’s words faded out as he shook his head with a feigned look of pity in his eyes. “And last but clearly not least, I don’t even know what ‘this’ is. But I’m more than excited to find out. Been bored out of my mind just playing games all this time. I want some real action.”

         Without further ado Dean was rolling up his sleeve. Gabe’s eyes widened, as did Hannah’s who had never seen the mark before.

         “Oh this _is_ big,” Gabe gave a chuckle. “How the heck did you rope yourself into this one Dean-o?”

         Dean cleared his throat. “Bit of a long story.”

         Gabriel took a seat, propping his heels up on the table. “Funny thing is… I’ve got centuries.”


	12. The Big Question

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is a bit short! More updates to come soon. <3 Have a beautiful day.

         The group relayed the entire story to Gabriel. Upon the tale ending the archangel broke out into a short burst of laughter before settling down and nodding.

         “Yeah. Okay,” Gabe said simply.

         “Okay?” Dean gave him a snarky look.

         “Okay.” Gabriel stood up. “I’ll do it.”

         “I’m sorry, what are we doing,” Hannah asked being the only one out of the loop at this point.

         “I’ll take up the task!” Gabe clasped his hands together. “I’ll don the Dean suit and poke around in there!” He grinned.

         Dean stood up as well. “Hey, hey! You’re not poking anything. Get in, get the job done, get out.”

         “If it can be done, that is,” Hannah added quickly, trying to help but as per usual not quite sure of protocol for this sort of thing. Dean and Gabe both nodded at her.

         “Yes, thank you Hannah,” Dean said as politely as possible. Hannah gave a small, curious smile. Dean sighed and stepped over to Gabriel, stretching his arms and flexing his fingers while his mind prepared for what was about to happen.

         Sam jumped up. “Wait! Right here, right now?” Sam was the only one with a shocked look on his face.

         “The matter is fairly urgent, Sam,” Cas tried to console the youngest Winchester.

         Sam pinched the bridge of his nose, his brow furrowed. “Dean can I talk to you?” His brother nodded and the Winchesters stepped out into the hall.

         “Husband, husband meeting,” Gabriel laughed. Cas gave him a scrutinizing look.

         “I wasn’t aware they were married?” Hannah looked at her brothers, rather confused.

         Castiel shook his head. “They aren’t.”

         “Not yet,” Gabe quipped.

         The Winchesters tried their best to ignore the conversation happening just inside the next room.

         “Dean, I’m not so sure about this.”

         Dean scoffed. “Well shit, Sammy! You were gung ho for the whole damn deal before Gabe showed up!”

         Sam looked away, embarrassed. He was terrified. Dean softened a bit, remembering that he and Sam were in this together. Sam wasn’t the only one worried about all the possibilities of what they were about to do.

         “It’s our best shot,” Dean mirrored his brother’s words. Sam looked pleadingly at him.

         “What if it doesn’t work? Or something goes terribly wrong?”

         “What if it does work, Sammy? We gotta try. I can’t… I can’t live with this…thing.”

         Gabriel called to them. “Should we take a nap? Grab a bite? Play an entire game of Monopoly? Or will the happy couple be joining us any time soon?”

         “We’re not a-” Dean started to yell back but a skeptical ‘um’ from Cas cut him off.

         “You should let Sam finish your sentence, Dean. You are not a good liar,” Cas suggested. Gabriel broke out in a fit of giggles.

         Sam chuckled with the angel, whispering softly to Dean. “Wasn’t there a time when we worked our asses off to hide everything we are?”

         Dean just shook his head. “You know what? If there’s anything we’ve earned it’s this.” He lifted his brother’s hand in his. “At least in front of them.” Dean kissed Sam’s knuckles. Then he exhaled a quick puff of air. “Let’s get this over with.” The brothers walked back to the others slowly, hand in hand which of course surprised no one but Hannah.

         “So they are married,” she whispered.

         “It’s complicated. But not really important,” Castiel told her.

         Dean nudged his brother. “You wanna marry me?”

         Sam gave one short ‘ha.’ “One thing at a time, De.”

         Dean nodded. Gabe clapped twice to get everyone’s attention like some sassy Frenchman.

         “Are we ready?” The archangel was eager. “Come on, I wanna know what’s so exciting in there!”

         Dean’s eyes squinted. “Shut up, Gabe. Just do it.”

         Gabriel stepped up to the oldest Winchester all the while rubbing his hands together as if to warm them. He placed them on either side of Dean’s head.

         “Gabriel, what about your vessel,” Cas asked quickly.

         “Oh, he’ll just sleep. Put him on the couch or something,” Gabe told them. Cas and Hannah nodded. Sam stood awkwardly to the side.

         “Don’t worry, Sammy.” Dean gazed at his brother.

         “Yeah, Sammy!” Gabriel chuckled. “I’m not into human’s.” He smirked.

         Sam shook his head with a disgruntled look, making no attempt to laugh at Gabriel’s joke. The archangel looked back to Dean and steadied his feet with one final breath.

         “Only I get to call him Sammy,” Dean said softly. Gabe gave a singular nod and asked the big question.

         Dean’s voice was almost inaudible when he responded, “Yes.”


	13. The Emperors New Groove

         Dean staggered back as Gabriel left his body. The angel fell quickly back into his original vessel that Castiel had laid on the couch. Gabriel gave a quick screech as he readjusted to his frame. Dean’s hands flew to his temple with a groan. Sam caught his brother before he fell against the wall.

         “Dean?!” Panic surged through Sam.

         Dean made a range of noises from coughs to groans to near yelps. Even Gabe was having trouble breatheing and righting himself. Finally Dean quieted, Gabe stood up, and the rest of the group waited anxiously for an explanation. Gabriel thrust his arm out.

         “Look what I got,” the archangel practically sang, the mark shown prominently on his forearm.

         “God dammit, Gabe,” Dean shouted as he stood with Sam’s help. “I told you that wasn’t part of the plan!” Dean referred back to some conversation that took place within the recesses of his mind. “How the fuck are you going to deal with that?!”

         “I’m not.” Gabriel shrugged and with a snap of his fingers the mark was gone. “I just had to have it to nuke it.”

         “That’s it?” Sam voiced his skepticism.

         “That’s it,” Gabe nodded.

         “What of the blade,” Castiel asked.

         “Just bone now, really fucking old bone,” Gabriel was clearly amused. He shrugged again. “I’m way more powerful than any night of hell. Don’t look so shocked.”

         The group made their best attempts to regain their composure. Finally Sam released Dean and went for Gabriel, his arms extended, intent on wrapping the angel up and thanking him with all the sincerity the Winchester could muster.

         Gabe jumped back. “Whoa there, no hugs!”

         Dean was making his way over at this point as well. “What is this, The Emperor’s New Groove? Let us thank you, man.”

         “Is our brother an emperor,” Hannah whispered to Cas in the background.

         Sam chuckled and held up his hands. “I won’t hug you. But thank you. Thank you so much.”

         “As the great Dean Winchester would say, no chick flick moments.” Gabriel smirked. “Winchesters, Brother, Sister,” Gabe nodded to each of them. “It’s always a pleasure.” Then with those words and a snap of his fingers he was gone. The others sighed with a shake of their head. Finally Cas spoke.

         “How do you feel, Dean?”

         “Relieved,” Dean answered. It was all that was said. The four looked at each other unsure of where to go from here. It took them all a moment to realize the tremendous weight that had been lifted from their tired shoulders. One by one each member’s features and stance relaxed and they released a little breath or a sigh. Sam stepped to his brother and intertwined his fingers in Dean’s. The older Winchester grinned widely, completely free for the first time in what felt like forever. Castiel noted the change in the brothers and nudged his sister gently. He cleared his throat, about to confess that he and Hannah really had to be going. But Sam beat him to the punch. He looked up from gazing at Dean.

         “What’s next for you all? Do you need a place to stay or…” Sam trailed off.

         “Heaven still needs us,” Cas answered.

         Hannah nodded in agreement. “There is much work to be done above.”

         “Indeed. We should, uh, make our way back I suppose,” Cas told them, reluctantly. He wanted to help, but he was confused as to how. Of course, he was also frightened he was less than qualified for such a daunting task.

         “Cas, wait!” Dean went to him, drawing the angel into a tight embrace. “Thank you, man. I can’t even…just…thanks. Thank you so much. If you need our help, just give us a ring.” With that Dean stepped back and straightened up back into his badass demeanor with an awkward chuckle.

         “Well, it was Hannah’s idea. And I’m not sure what it is you can’t do but… you’re welcome. And thank you though I’m not sure what you could do,” Cas nodded to him. Sam smiled and took his turn hugging the angel, then he turned to hug Hannah also, who stiffened at his touch but didn’t deny the offered affection.

         Finally the angels departed. Out side they paused before their car.

         “Humans are very emotional,” Hannah stated simply. “I like them.”

         Cas smiled briefly. “I’m glad.”

         “Castiel… what will we do now? What about your grace? And heaven? Will you be returning to offer your assistance?”

         “I think I will, yes,” Cas knew he had to help his brothers and sisters despite his reservations.

         “Can you fly? Or will we be traveling in the vehicle?”

         “I’d like to drive, if you don’t mind.”

         Hannah nodded. Before they knew it the two were on their way, neither really sure what was in store.


	14. Euphoria

         Back in the bunker Sam was straightening the chairs around the table and Dean was bringing them both a beer. They were exhilarated, both moving in a state of euphoria. Sam smiled when his fingers brushed over Dean’s as he took the bottle. He leaned to kiss his brother’s cheek. Dean quickly turned his head, catching Sam’s mouth with his own. Sam stumbled under the sudden onslaught of Dean’s lips and tongue. He set his beer down and somehow managed to keep it up right as it clanged against the wood. Sammy wrapped his arms around Dean’s neck as the older Winchester tugged at his brother’s shirt. Dean pressed the cold, condensation covered bottle of beer against the skin of Sam’s lower abdomen resting just above the clasp of his pants. Sam gave a sudden gasp causing Dean to smirk against his lips.

         “Cold, Sammy?” Dean was whispering to his brother as he shifted to kiss down Sam’s neck. Sam nodded. Dean worked Sam’s shirt off with one hand and took a swig of his drink, holding it in his mouth until he could close his lips over Sam’s nipple, swirling his tongue all the while. Sam wasn’t prepared for such a sensation and his hand flew to Dean’s hair, jarring his brother slightly and causing a dribble of beer to slip down his stomach. His head fell back, Dean’s name escaping in a sudden groan. He bucked against Dean.

         “De…”

         “Yeah, Sammy,” Dean chuckled darkly, finally swallowing down the beer.

         “Can we,” Sam began his plea but trailed off.

         “Can we what? Did you want something?” Dean was enjoying teasing his brother.

         “Please…”

         “Come on, baby brother. Use your big boy words.” Dean’s fingers were fumbling with Sam’s pants, having finally discarded the bottle in his hand. Sam squirmed, his hands dropping quickly to jerk Dean’s shirt over his head as the older Winchester sank to his knees and took Sam’s jean’s down with him. Sam’s cock was rock hard, the tip peaking out from the waistband of his boxers. Dean put his teeth ever so lightly on either side of the tight fabric coating his brother’s member and slid up and down the length. Sam gave a long drawn out moan.

         “You are such a big boy, aren’t you Sammy?”

         “De,” Sam begged. Dean pulled down Sam’s underwear, letting his breath ghost across the absolute gift he found there. Then he sat back on his heels, refusing to touch Sam completely.

         “Say it, Sammy.”

         “Put your mouth on me, Dean.”

         Dean shook his head with a chuckle. “What’s the magic word?”

         “Please,” Sam whined, about to collapse with desire. Dean leaned forward and licked a stripe up Sam’s throbbing cock, which twitched with the contact.

         “Is that what you want, baby,” Dean asked.

         “More,” Sam nearly sobbed. Dean wrapped his lips around the head of his brother’s dick and gave one slow suck all the way down, then back up and off before Sam’s fluttering fingers could hold his head in place. Sam whimpered. Dean took in the sight of his brother, standing up.

         “You’re so fucking beautiful, Sammy,” Dean whispered. He pressed himself up against Sam with a hand wrapped around his lower back. Sam’s head fell onto his shoulder as his hips bucked hard several times against Dean’s still covered crotch. Each thrust produced a louder groan from the taller man. His head turned and his teeth nipped at Dean’s neck.

         “Please big brother.”

         Dean was trying to keep his composure. He’d wanted to torture Sam for so much longer. Sam dug his fingers against Dean’s scalp, grabbing his hair and pulling back. Dean huffed abruptly.

         “Please what?” His voice was gruff as he shoved Sam back against the wall. Sam’s leg automatically lifted to wrap around Dean’s waist and Dean’s hand dropped to grope his ass. Sam let his head fall against the wall and his hands fall to Dean’s waistband. He shoved at his older brother’s jeans.

         “Want your big brother to fuck you, is that what?”

         “God yes,” Sam cried out. Dean stripped naked quickly, lifting Sam up against the wall. His fingers pushed into Sam’s mouth then dropped to his tight hole.

         “You like it when I fuck you, Sammy?”

         “More than anything,” Sam whispered. Dean groaned.

         “Sammy,” he breathed.

         “Need you inside me, De.”

         Dean nodded, lining up carefully. He looked his brother in the eye as he entered, pushing steadily through until there was nowhere left to go. Then Dean stilled. Sam gave grumbled.

         “Shhh,” Dean smoothed his brother’s hair back and kissed his lips passionately. “I love this, just being inside you.” His cock pulsed inside Sam. Sam moaned low and drawn out.

         “Feel my cock throb for you, baby?” Dean was whispered in Sam’s ear. Sam nodded, his pupils blown. Finally his lips parted.

         “Dean… move.”

         Dean smiled and pulled out almost completely then slid back in. His pace was agonizing. Sam was nearly in tears.

         “Faster,” he pleaded.

         “How fast, Sammy,” Dean smiled softly. Sam caught his brother’s lips and answered the question right against them with hardly any sound.        

         “As fast as you can go, big brother.” With that he tugged Dean’s lip with his teeth and gave a smirk. Dean growled, his pace going from leisurely to reckless. He sunk his teeth into Sam’s shoulder. Sam squealed with the force of Dean’s cock slamming against his prostate.

         “Oh fuck, fuck!”

         “This what you wanted?”

         “Fuck yes! Harder, De, please fuck me harder. I need it so badly.”

         “Yeah? You’re such a whore for your big brother’s cock.”

         Sam nearly laughed with Dean’s words. Hell yes he was. He fucking loved this, craved this.

         “I fucking live for my big brother’s cock,” Sam confessed suddenly, screaming out as Dean bit him again. Sam’s declaration had Dean snarling roughly and tossing his head back with thrusts as forceful as he could muster.

         “I’m gonna come, Sammy. Fuck…fuck! Come with me, baby. Come. Right. Fucking. Now.” Dean slammed home inside his brother with a sudden halt.

         “Ohh...De…De... Dean! Fuck, Dean!” Sam was shrieking as he came, his cock twitching ruthlessly. Dean’s face was buried in his brother’s neck. They panted in unison. And then they laughed in unison.


	15. PSA

         Dean set Sam back on his feet gently but even then Sam refused to let him go. The younger Winchester had his arms wrapped around his brother’s shoulders with his face buried in his brother’s neck. His eyes were closed and he breathed in slowly, inhaling Dean’s scent. Dean returned the embrace with one hand in Sam’s hair. He smiled.

         “It’s over, Sammy.”

         Sam nodded nearly in tears due to his relief. They could just breathe for a little while.

         “Never pegged you as a catcher, Moose,” Crowley’s voice was epitome of ridicule behind them. The brothers jumped in surprise. Dean spun quickly, placing himself between Crowley and Sam, hiding Sam’s naked body and all it’s recently added disfigurements.

         “No need for pretenses, Dean, I’ve been about long enough to see Samantha’s chipped jewels.”

         Sam glanced down, his face turning red.

         “What the fuck, Crowley?!” Dean was furious. “Get the hell out of here!”

         “That is far from the proper way to treat a guest, especially an old friend,” Crowley retorted.

         “We weren’t friends,” Dean spat.

         Crowley put his hand over his heart. “Ouch.” He said it humorously, though it wasn’t a joke to him.

         “What the fuck do you want, man?” Dean was ready to beat the shit out of the demon. He could feel Sam’s fingertips against his lower back, a silent plea for him not to move. Suddenly, Crowley pulled the first blade from his coat pocket. Sam and Dean both gave a little gasp. Dean stiffened immediately.

         “Sam go get dressed,” he told his brother. Sam stooped to gather his clothes quickly and backed out of the room. He returned moments later to find Dean clothed and glaring at Crowley. Sam had retrieved the demon knife and he fingered its handle idly, his courage restored with his clothing.

         “Crowley, if I recall, I told you if I ever saw you again I’d kill you,” Sam stated simply as he walked in the room.

         “I don’t think you ever quite got the full sentence out, actually,” Crowley leered at him.

         “Why the hell did you bring me that fucking bone, Crowley?” Dean snapped at the king of Hell.

         “Who knows? It’s not as if it’s good to you now, eh?” Crowley pointed at Dean’s arm with the blade. “What a waste.” He shook his head. “This would have come in handy in the very near future.”

         “What are you blabbering about, Crowley, we don’t exactly have time to sit around and bull shit with you, man,” Dean barked.

         “Oh yes, you’re both very busy fucking each other senseless, I know. Incestual bastards-”

         “Watch it mister sell my soul for a longer cock,” Dean cut him off. Crowley smirked.

         “It would come in handy, dear Squirrel and dear Moose, because I just had a lovely fellow sell his soul to one of my demons for the steep price of both of your heads on a platter.”

         “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. Who the actual fuck,” Dean asked.

         “You don’t know? He knows you,” Crowley teased.

         “Clearly!” Dean threw his hands up.

         “Knows Samantha too. A bit better than most, apparently.”

         Sam gasped. It was Cole. It had to be Cole.

         Dean realized it too. He cursed. “Knew I should’ve killed that son of a bitch,” he growled.

         “And you’re what? Here to warn us?” Sam interrogated the demon further.

         “A friendly public service announcement,” Crowley nodded.

         “Bull shit,” Dean countered.

         Sam nodded in agreement with his brother. “What do you want, Crowley?”

         “Why, what everyone wants, of course.” Crowley stuck his hands out innocently.

         “Thought you kicked the human blood habit,” Dean pestered him.

         “Hardy-har-har.” Crowley paused. “I’m here for justice.”

         “Since when?!” Sam was getting thoroughly fed up with Crowley’s beating around the bush. “Spit it out, dammit.”

         “I want the name or location if you have it of the demon who so kindly requested you kill me, Dean. That’s all. It’s a cheap price, I’d say.”

         To everyone’s surprise Sam burst into laughter. Crowley looked at Dean, confused.

         “He’s in the dungeon,” Sam said once he’d composed himself. “Dead.”

         “What an idiot,” Crowley chuckled. “Thanks boys.”

         “We didn’t do it for you,” the brothers said in unison.

         As much as it pained him Crowley held up his hands and smiled. Then he was gone.


	16. Trust Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so, so sorry for the lack of additions to my work. Finals, Christmas, and the end of the year that is fast approaching hit me like a ton of boulders. (Nice boulders, of course.) My tumblr is savagesavannah so feel free to bug the shit out of me if I'm not posting enough of this. I'm going to try harder. As always, thanks for reading. Enjoy.

         Sam let another chuckle slip from his lips, then another, and another. He chuckled the entire way to the bathroom, forcing the laugh out and begging it to sound real, carefree, and unnerved. But Dean could tell it wasn’t. He heard Sam slam the door to the bathroom followed by a loud crack as Sam’s fist collided with the wall. He didn’t go to him, knowing Sam well enough to realize what a mistake that would be. Sam was furious. He was furious with Cole, with Crowley, and even with Dean. Most of all, though, he was furious with himself for allowing this to get to him, for allowing Cole to ever get to him, allowing himself to be overtaken and tortured. Sam couldn’t stand the sick feeling of anxiety the memory caused in the pit of his stomach. But more than that, more than anything, Sam couldn’t stand the thought of Dean retrieving the same treatment. He knew the fear was foolish because Dean was stronger than him. Dean wouldn’t let Cole or the demon he’d dealt with close enough to touch him, let alone tie him up and torture him. Dean was too powerful for that.

         Suddenly another thought washed over him. The memory of Dean as a demon killing the bartender flooded through Sam’s body, nearly sending him into convulsions. It was enough to never want Dean to kill again, not even a fly. Sam tried to straighten himself out and remember that Dean was human again and that the mark was long gone, destroyed by Gabriel. Still he couldn’t shake the sight from behind his eyes. Every move he heard Dean make from the other room turned into something much louder and much different. The clanking of their beer bottles, long forgotten on the table, as Dean took them into the kitchen became the sound of the bartender’s neck snapping in Dean’s hand. The step of Dean’s boots against the wooden floor became the bartender’s body crashing across the bar. The sound of the beer as Dean poured it down the drain became the bartender’s blood seeping from his lifeless body. Sam covered his ears with his palms and squeezed his eyes shut. But the black of Dean’s eyes and the black of Dean’s heart would not leave him alone. Sam screamed in defeat as he succumbed to the sobs drudged up by sights of his brother the monster, who had, with strong and graceful movements, taken the life an innocent man who just as easily could have been Sam. 

         Dean heard his brother screech. He ran to the bathroom, realizing he’d left Sam on his own for far too long. He found his brother draped over the tub puking up the entire contents of his stomach between sobs. Dean quickly stood over his brother and pulled his hair out of any vomit danger zone. He rubbed Sam’s back gently.

         “I’ve got you, you’re okay. I’ve got you. It’s okay, Sammy. You’re okay. We’re okay.” Dean said what he could to calm his brother. “You don’t have to worry Sammy, I’ll take care of it. He won’t touch you again. I’m so sorry, Sam. I should’ve killed him before. It’s okay. You’re going to be okay. Trust me, Sammy, we are going to be okay.”

         Sam retched violently but to no avail. His stomach was empty. He writhed under his big brother’s hands, twisting to face Dean and scooting back against the wall. He half expected eyes of coal, but upon seeing Dean’s glittering emerald orbs Sam breathed a shaky sigh of slight relief. Dean watched him, attentive to the younger Winchester’s every move. The way Dean’s head was cocked and his eyes squinted just barely made Sam rethink his situation. This was not a demon staring back at him. This was Dean, pure Dean. Dean with worry etched across his features as he squatted before his little brother in the same stance Sam had seen a million times growing up. This was his big brother, Dean The Protector, not Dean The Monster. Sam wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve and grimaced at the taste on his tongue.

         “Need some wat-” Dean began to ask. Before he could finish, however, Sam gave a little lunge forward, knocking Dean on his butt, as Sam wrapped his long arms around his big brother’s waist and laid his head upon Dean’s thigh.

         “I trust you,” Sam whispered.


	17. Just Another Job

         After Sam had calmed and unwound himself from his brother the boys went about deciding their next move. A demon was coming for them; there was no denying that. The prospect of one demon seemed like nothing, in reality probably was nothing, but Sam warned that they could not under estimate Cole. He’d already made that mistake once. Dean recalled a day in the distant past when he had come to realize that humans could be bigger monsters than anything he and Sam faced. He didn’t want to be that, but the thought of Cole still breathing was quickly driving him to becoming the type of man that cuts others into pieces. Every moment in which Sam’s face fell due to memories of the torture he’d endured Dean mentally added another tally to the amount of times he’d drive his knife into that bastard Cole’s skin. Finally Dean stood up from where the boys had situated themselves on the couch.

         “Well they can’t get to us here. I’ll take a drive,” Dean suggested.

         “Just like that? Are you sure you’re ready for this, De? We can’t just wing this and hope it works out.”

         “I’m ready. I’m not winging it. I’m doing my job, jumping into the saddle whenever it's called for.” Dean went for a duffel to fill with weapons, ammo, clothes, whatever.

         “Where are we driving to?”

         “We aren’t driving anywhere. You’ll be safer here,” Dean stated firmly.

         “Dean, this is my job too. And besides, Crowley said the deal was for both of us. We know demons to be cocky and lazy. Not to mention any demon that agreed to come after us is young and stupid.”

         “Now who’s cocky?”

         “The point is, they won’t attack unless it’s both of us. All or nothing.”

         Dean grimaced. Sam was right, and Dean knew it, but the thought of bringing Sam along for any reason that even remotely had to do with Cole was not appealing. Hell if it meant keeping Sam safe as far as Dean was concerned they could hide away in this bunker forever, have Cas bring them their necessities, and live out their days naked and safe. But Dean knew Sam wouldn’t feel safe with Cole and whoever after them, and quite frankly Dean wouldn’t feel content until Cole’s body was six feet under in multiple holes. He pulled out a second duffel and looked pointedly at Sam.

         “All right. Get your shit,” Dean grunted. Sam gave a single nod. Once all was packed and ready the boys stood together by the head of the table, a map laid out before them.

         “Where to?” Dean swept his hand over the map.

         “Here,” Sam stated almost sternly, poking his finger in a definite spot maybe half a days drive from the bar where the boys had finally been reunited. Dean raised an eyebrow. Sam glanced down at his toes. “That’s where…um…” Sam trailed off.

         Dean nodded. That’s where Cole had tortured his little brother.

         “There’s an abandoned warehouse type building. Out of the way, you know?”

         Dean nodded again. “Yeah.” His eyes met with Sam’s. He couldn’t understand how anyone could ever look at a face like that and want to cause his brother harm. “Yeah,” Dean said again. He hoisted his bag on his shoulder. “You ready?”

         Sam knew Dean wasn’t just asking if he had all he needed and was ready to leave, Dean was asking if Sam was ready to go back to that hell hole, face his abuser, and probably watch his brother become a monster one last time because they both knew, with hardly any doubt, that Cole would end up in the same place they were going. There was no chance that Cole would leave it all to the hands of some demon who would easily half ass the job, he hated the boys too much. Sam nearly shook his head at the thought. There wasn’t a chance in hell that he was ready. But he needed to be, and so as always he nodded and began to walk towards the garage.

         “Sam,” Dean called to him. Sam stopped. Dean laid an outstretched hand gently on his brother’s arm. He knew Sam wouldn’t admit to any weaknesses at a time like this and Dean wouldn’t try to get him to. But he couldn’t just leave it where Sam had, not when he knew what Sam was thinking. “I will protect you.”

         Sam turned back and planted his lips firmly against his brother’s, both for his benefit and Dean’s. Then he nodded once more. “I know.”


	18. Different Kinds Of Monsters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, as always. Comments and criticism always welcome and appreciated <3
> 
> Also, I have recently posted a Marceline and Princess Bubblegum Adventure Time one shot fic. It's basically just smut, but I like it c:   
> I'd be extremely thankful to anyone who would like to check it out. 
> 
> Thanks. Have a beautiful day!

         Out of the way was an understatement. On the road to this fucking armpit of the earth the boys nearly got lost more than once. But Dean let Sam guide them without a single word. He knew his brother’s memory would get them there. How the hell would someone ever forget a place like this?

         “There it is.” Sam’s voice wavered as he pointed straight ahead through the trees. They drove around it once then managed to park the Impala off to the side where it would be mostly hidden by bushes and trees. Neither made a move to exit the vehicle.

         “How long do you think,” Dean questioned in his attempt to make light conversation.

         “Fifteen minutes tops.”

         “All right. You…um…” He ran his hand through his hair. “It’s just another job, Sam.” He wasn’t sure whom he was trying to convince.

         “I know.” Sam answered too quickly. Then he sighed. “On any other job we wouldn’t be stalling…”

         Dean looked at his brother, squinting in some attempt to look deep into his soul. “So let’s go,” he stated simply, knowing that if they stopped this, if they treated it like any other hunt, that’s what it would be.

         Dean and Sam hopped from the car in a flurry of seat belts and jackets. They popped the drunk and donned their instruments of destruction, Dean with a gun and Sam with the demon blade, before promptly traipsing off to the looming run down warehouse ahead. Dean grumbled under his breath. The place was coming down, and it was coming down soon. He wondered if they were more likely to be killed by falling debris than they were to be taken out by Cole and some second rate demon.

         Sam pushed back the sliding door just enough so they could enter what now appeared to him to be a loading area. It was the same room he’d been tied up in, but at the time he hadn’t paid much attention to the original purpose of the scenery. He could feel the bile bubbling in the depths of his stomach, threatening to rise like lava from a volcano. He nearly doubled over with dry heaves when his foot kicked over a hunk of the rope he’d somehow managed to free himself from. Dean caught his elbow as he stumbled around in the dark.

         “Hey! You good?” Dean’s voice gave way to some of his concern but he tried to keep his all business, hard ass demeanor, knowing that if he could then Sam could too.

         Sam nodded and straightened himself up. He had to keep it together. He would keep it together.

         “Yeah, Sammy, you good,” a sickening voice echoed from behind them. It took Sam only a brief moment to muster the strength to turn around.

         “Great now,” he said easily, surprised by the confidence he’d managed to force in his voice. “Good to see you again, Cole. Heard you had a new friend.”

         Dean too was surprised at how collected his brother seemed, but he didn’t question it, just admired Sam’s strength and thanked Cas for both of their abilities to pull a straight face in the presence of their enemies.

         “Yeah, we were looking forward to a fair fight,” Dean added. “You’re new buddy didn’t chicken out did they? Guess I understand. Did seem kinda foolish to make such a deal. Both our heads, huh? That’s a steep price for your bastard soul. You sure your friend can deliver?” Dean knew the bastard insult would cut to the quick, and that’s just what he wanted, to wound Cole as deeply as the son of a bitch had Sam.

         Cole hardly blinked, keeping his composure in check just as well as his adversaries for now. “Boys, boys, boys, you’ve been given misinformation! I didn’t sell my soul to have a demon do my dirty work! I sold my soul to become a demon and do it myself. Dad always did say if you want something done right…” he trailed off.

         Sam and Dean shared a sudden glance of surprise. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? What you’ve gotten yourself into?!” Sam’s voice was full of disgust and, shockingly, concern. He blinked once, realization reaching the edges of his mind. What Cole did to him was wrong, outrageously and nauseatingly wrong. He was fueled by vengeance and trauma from the murder of his father before his eyes when he was a child. Sam hated the nightmares it caused him, but he knew that Cole was having nightmares too, and had been his whole life. So, yes, Sam blamed him, he was too wounded not to, but he understood him also. To a little boy, who knew nothing of the shadows in the dark, to watch a man as ruthless as Dean come in and rip his father a new one must have been the most horrifying experience of Cole’s existence. Finally Sam’s lips formed a thin line.

         “You know what your father was, Cole?” Classic, reasoning, kindhearted Sam fell easily back into place, and oh he had been missed.

         “I don’t care,” the demon answered.

         Dean saw his Sammy relax back into the same man he’d been what seemed like centuries ago, and though Dean despised the very idea of Cole, he wouldn’t undermine his brother, that had never been something to go right.  If Sam wanted to try and help then that’s what they would do. “He was a murderer, Cole, a murderer and a monster.”

         “Like you,” Cole snapped. “Do you even remember what kind of monster? Or was he just another job to you? How many families have you two _hunters_ ripped apart? Huh? A hundred? A thousand? You’re as big of a monster as the rest of them! Oh, but you think you’re not anymore right? The demon is gone so you aren’t a monster right?” Cole’s eyes flashed to black. “Horseshit. You’re both monsters. We’re all monsters.”

         “You don’t have to keep this up, Cole. We…we can change you back; we can help you. We can relate to what you went through.” Sam thought of his mother. “It’s not something we ever wanted or planned…but your father was killing innocent people. We couldn’t just let him-”

         “Horse shit! You could’ve! You could’ve!” Cole was furious. Dean was all he could see. He lunged for the oldest Winchester with the force and speed of any fresh demon, his vengeance clouding his judgment. He’d never once stopped to wonder why the demon he’d dealt with wouldn’t join his quest for the Winchesters. And in all the information he’d learned about the darker side of life he’d never once asked why all the monsters feared these brothers so. When he flew passed Dean, who had quickly ducked around him, and turned in a rage to find Sam Winchester stabbing a knife through his belly he understood at long last why all the monsters feared the Winchesters. Because they could not be beaten, not as skilled, precise, and fierce as they were. His life flashed through is body in the same show the brothers had seen a million times. Then it was over. Cole’s body sagged against Sam.


	19. Starved

         Dean was confused. The entire thing had started and ended so quickly. He had thought that he’d have to fight Cole, thought that’d he’d have to put in a decent amount of force to kill the man, thought that he’d enjoy it. But here he was turning on his heels in defense to find the man he’d wanted to rip limb from limb dead in his little brother’s arms. He could not see Sam’s face, only the soft shudders of his shoulders as he cried.

         “Sammy…” Dean went to his brother and shoved Cole’s body away. He took the knife from Sam’s hand and cleaned it off with a rag, which he also tossed away. Sam was rigid, his fists clenched at his sides as he cried silently. Dean smoothed his hair back from his face.

         “You did good, baby. You did so well. It’s over now, okay?”

         Sam didn’t respond.

         “Sammy, okay?”

         Finally Sam looked up. “Yeah.” He nodded shakily. “Yeah, okay. It’s over.” He repeated the words to himself in his thoughts. It was over. Cole was gone, put to rest in his turmoil at last, and Sam could move on now. He and Dean both could. The mark, the demons, the pain and suffering, all were gone even if just for a while. Of course they knew there would be more trouble, more work, but they could take it on together, whatever it was. Sam breathed, just breathed for a full minute or so. Then he jerked his head in the direction of the door.

         “Can we go home?”

         Dean gave a smile and a nod. “Get the Impala, I’ll be right there.”

         Sam didn’t need to ask what Dean was going to do. He’d seen the outline of the lighter in his big brother’s pocket before they’d even left the bunker. So he left Dean to it and walked away without a glance back. Dean set fire first to Cole’s body and then to the rag after tucking it and some leaves in the crevasse between one of the support beams for the ceiling and the wall. He knew as dry as this area had been that the entire building would be smoking in minutes, and there was no chance in hell of someone finding it all the way out here. When he got to the car Sam was leaning against the driver door waiting for him.

         “Trunks open,” the younger Winchester said simply. Dean put his gun away and went for the handle of his door but Sam still stood there. Dean looked up to find Sam with a slight smile on his face.

         “De…thanks.”

         “Sammy…you’re welcome.”

         They laughed in unison until Dean placed his hands on either side of Sam’s face and kissed his brother in the softest way he could manage.

         “I love you, Sammy. And this,” he waved his hand behind him at the burning building. “I’d do this for you any day. I’d do anything for you any day. You’re my whole world.”

         “I love you too, De…” Sam stared at his brother nearly in awe. “I love you so fucking much.” He kissed Dean again, with all the force he could muster. Dean pulled away when he was breathless.

         “Come on, Sam… get in the car. Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

         And so they drove. They drove as fast as the impala would take them out of the woods and across the lines until they were parked in the garage at the bunker once more. Any breath either had been holding was released with the clunk of the garage door closing down on the concrete floor. Dean looked over at his little brother and Sam looked right back at him, eyes prodding the depths of each other’s soul. It can’t be said who made the first move it was just mutual. The two brothers were suddenly against each other in a passionate storm, each fighting for dominance over the other. Their growls mingled and echoed through the car. Dean shoved Sam back against the passenger side door. Sam froze in anticipation of what might happen next.

         “Get out,” Dean demanded in a voice so low and sexed out Sam was surprised he didn’t orgasm on the spot. He fumbled with the door handle, jumping out as quickly as he could manage and nearly hitting his head on the roof as he did so. They hurried towards each other, meeting in front of the hood. Dean took hold of Sam’s waist and threw him back onto the impala with the ferocity of an animal. He fell on his little brother as a man starved of human touch, starved of moments to be enjoyed without impending doom in the back of one's mind eating away at all the fun. 


	20. Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope each of you have enjoyed reading "Fuck the Hell Out of Me" as much as I have enjoyed writing it. Perhaps it seems a little short, I've yet to decide. But for now this is the ending. As always comments, criticism, whatever is greatly appreciated. I'm sure I will return to this in time to edit or add or maybe just read over once again. Until then I'll write somethings that are new and maybe add to things that are old. I hope you each have a fantastic day and until next time, happy reading.

         Sam let out a strangled groan when Dean’s denim covered member rutted against his own. He took hold of his big brother’s hair with a tight grip as Dean sunk his teeth into Sam’s neck. Dean’s answering snarl was exhilarating. But when the older man started on the button of his little brother’s jeans Sam decided he wasn’t quite ready to give in so easily. He quickly and forcefully shoved Dean away from him and scooted off the impala’s hood.

         “Sammy,” Dean questioned him, confused as to why his lover was suddenly shunning him.

         Sam sprinted quickly just inside the door of the bunker and spun round to smirk at his brother. “Don’t tell me I’m not worth the chase, big brother.” He stuck his tongue out as he taunted Dean.

         “Feeling frisky, are we?” Dean stepped towards him a few feet like a lion stalking his prey. Sam saw the glint in his brother’s eyes and took no time to respond, simply turned and ran through the bunker. Dean caught up to him in the kitchen where they stood at odds on either side of the bar.

         “Come on, baby boy, give up.” Dean shed his shirt and kicked off his shoes as he continued. “You know I’m going to win this.”

         Sam grinned and chucked his own shirt off into Dean’s face. “Wouldn’t have it any other way,” he called out and continued on his flight down the hall. He ducked into the bathroom hoping to jump Dean as he ran by but the older Winchester had heard Sam’s shoes against the tiled floor.

         Dean crept down the hall on silent feet and heard Sam shed his shoes and jeans. Then he pounced into the bathroom upon his unsuspecting little lover and pushed him right into the shower and back against the cold tile wall.

         “Gotcha,” Dean whispered, leaning in for a kiss. But before their lips could meet Sam flicked the water on full blast, letting it rain down over their scantily clad bodies. The feeling was pure bliss, the brother’s felt like young men again, young men who had not seen the suffering that followed the name Winchester wherever it went. They laughed together, Dean’s arms circled around Sam’s neck and Sam’s arms circled around Dean’s waist.

         “Well,” Sam whispered, teasingly.

         “Well what?”

         “You got me. You won.” Sam leaned forward and tugged on Dean’s earlobe with his teeth. “Claim your prize,” he murmured.

         Dean grinned wide and stepped back to strip away his damp, confining clothes. He had to pause just for a moment and admire his brother, towering, soaked, and naked except for his underwear. A rumble escaped Dean’s lips.

         “You’re so fucking sexy, Sammy.” Dean kissed down Sam’s neck and across his chest, tugging on the perky nipple he found there with his teeth. Sam’s head rolled from side to side, eyes closed in ecstasy as his big brother worshipped his body. When Dean reached Sam’s soaked underwear he blew a cool breath over where the fabric clung to Sam’s cock.

         “Is this my prize, little brother?”

         Sam could only whimper.

         “Can I do whatever I please to you and this rock hard cock of yours?”

         “Yes…please…”

         Dean ripped Sam’s underwear apart, causing Sam to jump in surprise as the water hit his bare skin. Dean began to kiss down the shaft of Sam’s dick until he reached his testicles. Then one by one Dean took each perfect globe into his mouth and gave it a gentle suck for just a moment before letting it fall back into place. All the while Sam’s fingers were digging into Dean’s scalp and shoulder, begging silently for more than Dean was willing to give just yet. Sam wasn’t the only one who knew how to play games.

         “Turn around, Sammy, let me see that perfect ass of yours.”

         Sam did as he was told. “Your ass, De, it belongs to you,” he whispered.

         Dean sighed in content. He placed kisses first on one cheek and then the other. He slipped his tongue deep inside the crack and lapped over Sam’s hole like a mother animal cleaning blood from her fresh infant. The care he took brought tears to Sam’s eyes as he begged Dean for more.

         “De, please…”

         Suddenly Dean gave Sam’s ass a sharp smack. “Damn right it’s mine,” he growled. He stood abruptly and hooked one of Sam’s legs up over his hip so he could reach Sam’s flawless little hole. Then he kissed Sam fiercely, letting his tongue explore the youngest Winchester’s mouth carelessly. Sam could taste himself on Dean’s tongue and moaned into their kiss. Dean smirked and pulled away an inch. He began to slip first one finger and then another and another into Sam’s ass in search of his prostate. Sam’s breath hitched once or twice at the tantalizing intrusions.

         “Sammy,” Dean murmured as he nuzzled his brother. “You okay, Sammy baby?”

         Sam nodded and offered a whine.

         “You’re so good, baby brother, so wonderful,” Dean continued to whisper sweet nothings at Sam, offering him gentle kisses in between words. Sam gasped as Dean’s fingers brushed his prostate over and over.

         “Yeah?” Dean made his brother look at him. “Is that good, Sam? Do you like having my fingers deep inside you? Are you going to come for your big brother? Gonna come all over us both?”

         Sam started nodding and didn’t stop as Dean picked up the pace and lifted Sam completely off the shower floor.

         “Yes, De, god yes. Gon- gonna come for you s-so hard. De, oh Dean, Dean!” Sam couldn’t hold his orgasm at bay any longer. He ejaculated over himself and his brother who kissed him as soon as his orgasm began and had penetrated him before his orgasm ended. Sam threw his head back and screamed in elation.

         “Can you do it again, baby brother?” Dean massaged up and down Sam’s dick as he fucked him in long smooth movements. “Not gonna last long…you’re so…god Sammy you’re so perfect. I could come just from watching you fall apart on my cock.”

         “Fuck me harder, De, please. I need it harder.” Sam begged to feel the force of Dean’s love and passion deep within his bones. Despite that the water was growing cold around them the brothers were sweating as if they were running a marathon, both racing toward an explosive finish line. Dean slammed into his brother, grunting with each thrust. He wrapped his fingers around the back of Sam’s neck and brought their foreheads together.

         “Look at me, Sammy, need to see your eyes. Watch your big brother as I fuck you, can you do that?”

         “Yes. Fuck yes.”

         “This,” Dean rubbed his thumb over Sam’s cheek. “You, you’re all mine. All mine. And I’m all yours, Sammy. Everything I am belongs to you little brother.”

         “I love you, Dean. I love you and making love to you and being yours, I love every little bit of it. And I love when you come in me. Please come in me, De.”

         Dean gave an exasperated roar over the things his Sammy could do to him. His hips took on a mind of their own and fucked into Sam’s ass in a frenzy of need. He sped up the stroking of his hand around Sam’s penis.

         “I’m gonna come, please, please come with me, Sammy. Come. _Come now!”_ Dean bellowed the demand at his little brother who was all too thrilled to comply.

         “I- I’m coming for you, Dean!” Sam’s head was still held to Dean’s and both men kept their eyes wide. They cried out together and came together. Then, slowly and in a sort of drunken stupor, they regained control of their breath together. They wiped the sweat and semen from each other’s bodies. They washed each other thoroughly, despite the chilly water. Finally they rinsed and dried off. They were exhausted and exhilarated. Beyond that they were relieved and, to the largest extent any Winchester could be, Sam and Dean were free just for a little while.

            In Dean’s room they crawled into bed and wrapped themselves around each other. Neither spoke, they simply kissed once, twice, thrice, and a fourth time. Then they fell into a deep peaceful sleep together.

**Author's Note:**

> Complete and utter work in progress. You're wonderful for reading it though. Thanks <3


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